Where You Least Expect It
by rahleeyah
Summary: Sometimes you find comfort where you least expect it. Reviews are love.
1. Chapter 1

Brenda shifted uncomfortably on the couch in her office, both grateful that she'd had the presence of mind to request a couch be put in there and resentful of the awful, cheap thing the LAPD had given her.

_I probably should have gone home, _she thought as she sat upright, stretching her arms and legs and feeling the tightness in her muscles. She was exhausted, achy, and in a foul mood. The clock behind her desk- whose ticking had kept her up, though she was too tired to get up and take the batteries out of the damn thing- read 5:15 am.

5:15.

God, Brenda hated mornings.

She decided the best option would be coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. Maybe she could go out for a muffin. Or some pastries. Or French toast! From that place where they'd found a head in the dumpster. Head or no, they made fabulous French toast.

So that was the plan. Coffee, then sugar.

She pulled herself into a standing position, tugging her clothes into some semblance of order. She'd slept in her skirt and the camisole she'd worn under her jacket the day before. _Gonna have to change,_ she thought glumly, heading for the small wardrobe in the corner of her office that housed her emergency extra clothes. She opened the door and sighed in dismay.

There were no clean clothes. There were old clothes, piled up in a wrinkly mess in the floor of the wardrobe, and there were empty hangers on the bar across the top, but there was nothing clean. She stomped her foot in frustration.

She could go home and change. But if she went home now, Fritz would almost certainly be there, either still in bed or wandering around, getting ready for the day and wondering where she was. And the last thing she wanted was to see Fritz this morning, to see the disappointment in his eyes, to deal with yet another fight. That man insisted on talking about everything, as if talking about things had the magical power of making them alright again. They could talk about the little things that Brenda did that annoyed him, or about having kids (_for the ten thousandth time_, she thought, rolling her eyes), or about how they never saw each other, but talking about these things was never going to make them go away. Brenda was always going to be Brenda. Brenda was never going to want kids. Brenda was never going to stop putting work first. Surely by now, he understood that.

Except he apparently didn't, because they'd fought again yesterday morning, and at lunch, and over the phone, and when they accidently bumped into each other at the elevators in the middle of the afternoon and Brenda just couldn't face him again. So she'd stayed at work for the night, and she knew she could expect eighteen different kinds of hell the next time she saw Fritz.

Which would not be this morning, she decided.

She pulled a wrinkled skirt out of the bottom of her wardrobe, shook it out, and changed into it. She found her comfort-sweater in the back, and pulled it on over her camisole. She finger-combed her hair and pulled it back into a ponytail.

_It'll have to do_, she thought resignedly, and headed out the door of her office for the breakroom, drawn there by the promise of coffee.

The room was empty, but she had anticipated that. There were some people who came into work as early as 6 or 7, but not at 5:15. She started the coffee maker in blessed silence, listening to it drip as she rinsed out a mug. She was grateful no one was there; she didn't feel like dealing with people. People talking. People looking at her wrinkled clothes with pity. The worried expressions on their faces when they realized that she must have spent the night there. She didn't want to explain herself to anyone.

And so it was that when she heard the sharp, familiar click of stilettos on the linoleum behind her, her heart sank in her chest. The coffee wasn't done yet. She had to stay for coffee. She hoped, for a fleeting instant, that those little shoes would click away, but they didn't. They just came closer and closer, until Brenda could sense _that woman's_ presence behind her.

"Good morning, Chief," she heard Raydor say in those distinct tones. The woman was always so irritatingly precise.

"Captain Raydor," Brenda sighed. She refused to turn around. She wouldn't give _that woman_ the satisfaction of seeing just how frazzled she was this morning.

Raydor wasn't going anywhere. She continued to lean in the doorway. At least Brenda assumed she was leaning. She still hadn't turned around.

"Making coffee?" Raydor asked. Still not leaving.

"Captain, yes, as a matter of fact I am making coffee. And I didn't get very much sleep last night, so excuse me if I'm not in a talkative mood."

She hoped that would be blunt enough to send Raydor on her way. Evidently it wasn't; those heels clicked across the floor until Raydor was leaning against the counter beside her. Close, but not too close.

Brenda could just see her out of the corner of her eyes. Her sharp suit. Her perfectly coiffed hair. _Damn that woman, _Brenda thought. Did Raydor have to wander into the breakroom, all well put-together with that little smirk on her face, clearly enjoying Brenda's despair?

"Were you here all night?" the woman asked quietly, and suddenly Brenda realized she wasn't smirking. Raydor actually seemed… well… _concerned_ about her. Brenda didn't think it was possible for Sharon Raydor to be concerned about anything other than her own precious rules. She didn't like the idea that Raydor might actually have a heart. It somehow made all the awful things Brenda and her squad had said (and thought) about _that woman_ seem harsh and unkind. And it made all the other, more private Brenda had thought about _that woman_- about how nice she looked when she left her hair curly, or how her smile could light up her face- seem somehow more terrifying.

"Yes, Captain, I was," Brenda answered, pulling the pot off the coffee maker when it signaled it was ready. Raydor wordlessly held out her own mug; Brenda filled both Raydor's and her own without a second thought.

"Don't tell me you were working, Chief," Raydor said, wrapping her hands around her mug, "Your squad doesn't have any open cases."

Brenda found herself faced with the patented Raydor stare; not her glare, or her haughty smirk, but her piercing stare, the one she used to get Brenda to fess up to something she'd done. Brenda couldn't help it, when Raydor looked at her that way, she felt all twisted up inside until she finally gave in and told Raydor what she wanted to know.

"If you must know, Captain," Brenda said, pausing to sip on her coffee. _Thank God for caffeine_… "I wasn't working, but I did sleep here."

Raydor just nodded, and drank her coffee.

_How long am I supposed to stand here?_ Brenda wondered. She didn't want to just walk out, that seemed rude somehow. She didn't want to keep talking, either; she and the Captain were not great friends, and Brenda was in no mood to tap-dance around her, making small talk and trying not to say anything that would end in her being investigated by FID.

Raydor made up Brenda's mind for her, however. The woman stood upright, and smiled tightly. "Well, I hope your day improves, Chief," she said, and clicked away out of the breakroom without another word.

Part of Brenda was relieved she had gone. Part of her felt suddenly lonely.

Sharon had tried all day to keep her mind focused on work, but each time she found herself without a task, her thoughts drifted back to Brenda Leigh Johnson. The woman had looked absolutely pitiful when Sharon had stumbled across her in the breakroom earlier in the day. Her skirt wrinkled, her hair a mess, and that God-awful sweater. Even marital strife (and Sharon was convinced the Chief was fighting with Agent Howard; she'd spent enough nights on the couch in her own office to recognize the signs) was no excuse for a sloppy sweater. Sharon had for a moment harbored thoughts of asking what was wrong, of perhaps reaching out to the blonde-haired Chief on a personal level, but Johnson had done everything short of jumping up and down and screaming to keep her away. And so Sharon had stayed just long enough to let the Chief know that she was concerned before making a graceful exit.

It was close to 8pm, and Sharon was ready to go home. Not that there was much waiting for her there, just some leftover Chinese food and some reports she needed to read, but it was better than staying here.

Like the Chief had done last night.

If asked about it later, Sharon would not be able to explain why it was, exactly, that she pressed the _up_ instead of the _down_ button on the elevator, but she did. She stepped inside, shaking her head at herself even as she pressed the button for the Chief's floor.

_Well_, she thought_, since I'm going up there, I might as well check in on her. _

The murder room was empty as she sauntered across the threshold; Major Crimes had clearly packed up and gone home for the night. Except there was a light on in Deputy Chief Johnson's office. _God damn it,_ Sharon thought to herself.

It wasn't too late to walk away, to turn around and pretend like this side-adventure had never happened, but Sharon wasn't very good at walking away from people who needed help. And God knows, Brenda Leigh Johnson needed help. Sharon desperately wished that she didn't have to be the one to offer a hand to the messy Chief (and there was no other word to describe the woman, she was messy in every sense of the word) but she knew no one else was going to do it.

She knocked softly on the door, hoping somehow the Chief wouldn't hear. But of course she did.

"Just a second!" the Chief called in that unmistakable accent, and Sharon rolled her eyes. _Here we go, _she thought.

The Chief opened the door with one of her trademark smiles firmly in place, but the smile promptly disappeared when she caught sight of the Captain.

That stung a bit, if Sharon was being honest with herself. Sure, they weren't friends, but did the woman have to look so… so… put out about seeing her? Did the Chief really dislike her that much?

"Come in, Captain," Brenda said, though she was obviously not happy about it.

The Chief's office was a mess of papers and clothes slung everywhere, the remnants of some kind of takeout sitting on her desk. Sharon noticed that the Chief was still wearing that lumpy sweater, although it was slightly askew, as if Brenda had only just pulled it on. Sharon tried not to think about the Chief sitting in that chair in just her camisole. Tried not think about the slope of her shoulders, or the tilt of her neck, or her collarbones, or what lay just south of them…

"Chief, please tell me you're not staying here another night," Sharon exclaimed before she could stop herself. There was no elegant way to come back from this, she realized, but she was going to try.

Brenda sighed. "Captain, where I spend the night is really none of your concern."

Sharon planted her hands on her hips and considered leaving right then, but she just couldn't. The Chief was clearly having a hard time, and Sharon knew the woman didn't have any friends to call on for help. She had a good relationship with her squad, but she could hardly ask one of them to open their home to her. Sharon knew all too well what that felt like. She remembered a time when she'd spent a whole week sleeping on the unforgiving couch in her office. Remembered how much her back had hurt, how hard it had been to stay focused on work. She felt the need to keep the Chief from repeating that same experience.

"Is there a particular reason you don't want to go home?" she asked, hoping to keep the conversation going while she argued with herself about her next step.

The Chief sighed, and ran her fingers through her hair. "Captain-"

That was enough. The woman just seemed so small, and sad somehow, and much too proud to admit it. Sharon couldn't stop herself.

"Come with me," Sharon said quickly, scooping up the Chief's purse in her hand and holding it out to the blonde. Brenda might not be keen on accepting her help, so Sharon wasn't going to give her an option, and she wasn't going to give herself enough time to think better of it.

"Excuse me?" Brenda said, and Sharon resisted the urge to snap her fingers to get the Chief up and out of her chair.

"You can't sleep on this couch again. I have a guest room. Please don't make me spell this out for you."

A look of wonder crossed Brenda's face, but she rose, and accepted her purse, following Sharon out the door.

If asked about it later, Sharon wouldn't be able to explain it, but she felt a certain sense of achievement as she stepped aboard the elevator with Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson following close behind.


	2. Chapter 2

Sharon's home was exactly what Brenda was expecting, and then again, it wasn't. The furnishings inside were sleek; elegant, much like the woman herself. It was clean, almost shiny, and Brenda felt suddenly embarrassed, even though the Captain had never seen her own messy home. The house was a spacious place, Californian in every sense; the damn thing even had an atrium in the middle, open to the sky, with potted plants and benches and everything. How Sharon had found this place or how she managed to pay for it was a mystery to Brenda. Brenda was also confused about when exactly she'd started thinking about the Captain as Sharon instead of _that woman,_ but she had. She was Sharon now. And for some reason, that scared Brenda.

Sharon toed off her shoes, and Brenda did the same, following her as she wandered down the front hall towards the kitchen. Brenda couldn't help her searching gaze as she moved through the house, looking for pictures, or notes, or letters, something to tell her more about Sharon, the woman. Brenda imagined that Sharon the woman was quite different from Captain Raydor. And that thought scared her, too.

The kitchen was huge, with a heavy oak table and chairs off to the side, and shiny black appliances. It looked like Sharon spent a lot of time in there. _I bet she's a great cook, too_, Brenda thought glumly.

Sharon pulled a corkscrew out of a drawer and opened a bottle of wine sitting on the counter. She pulled two glasses down and filled them, and held one out to Brenda. They hadn't spoken since Sharon had practically dragged Brenda off the elevator and into her car.

Brenda was grateful, though. She was grateful that Sharon hadn't insisted on making small talk. Grateful that Sharon had offered her a place to stay. Grateful for the glass of really good wine in her hand. It wasn't Brenda's usual Merlot, but sometimes change was good.

That thought scared Brenda, too. She hated change. She hated having to alter her routine, hated having to look at the world in a different way. Why, then, did change suddenly seem like such a good idea? What was it about standing next to Sharon Raydor in this kitchen that made Brenda think that maybe it was time she changed things up a bit?

"Are you hungry?" Raydor asked, sitting her wine down on the counter and going to the fridge.

"No, I ate in the office. Thank you, though," Brenda added quickly. Her mama had done her best to teach Brenda manners, and though Brenda often ignored those lessons, she did occasionally try to behave the way her mama wanted her to.

Sharon just shrugged and pulled a container out of the fridge. Brenda looked at it closely as Sharon dug through a drawer looking for a fork, and she couldn't help but smile. It was Chinese take-out. Nice to know that even the Wicked Witch ate cold take-out some nights.

Sharon leaned against the counter, holding the container in one hand and the fork in the other, and Brenda felt mesmerized as she watched her eat. How is it possible, she wondered, that Sharon could make something as undignified as eating cold take-out as graceful and…sensual as she did? _Sensual? _Was that really a word Brenda was using to describe her now?

Brenda shook her head at herself, and took a deep drink of wine. The corner of Sharon's mouth twitched into an almost-smile, but she said nothing.

The silence stretched between them, and Brenda was running out of places to look that weren't Sharon Raydor.

"You have a lovely home," Brenda said finally, desperately hoping that conversation might distract her from the appearance of the woman standing across the kitchen from her.

"Hmm", Sharon hummed, swallowing a bite before she answered. "Thank you."

That was it. Just "thank you". Not nearly enough. Because Brenda was still studying her. The ease with which she held herself. The way her green eyes sparkled behind her glasses. Hell, even the woman's ears were somehow charming. _I am so screwed_, Brenda thought to herself.

"Don't you have children?" Brenda asked, remembering a conversation from the debacle that was last Christmas.

Sharon nodded. "I have two girls," she said. Took another bite. Watched Brenda with a slightly amused expression on her face, as if waiting to see what she might say next.

Clearly, she wasn't going to make this easy on Brenda.

"Where are they?" Brenda asked, looking around to emphasize her point. The front door was locked when they arrived, and the house was silent save for the clinking of glasses and the ticking of the clock in the hallway. Ticking clocks were going to be the death of her.

"They're both in college." Sharon paused, but Brenda must have looked as frustrated as she felt, because the woman took pity on her. "Emma's in law school back East, and Chloe's a junior at Berkeley."

"You must be proud," Brenda said, because she felt like that was what she was supposed to say.

Sharon smiled. "I'm their mother. I'll be proud of them no matter what they do."

Conversation became easier as the night stretched on. Brenda found that talking to Sharon Raydor was quite pleasant when she had a glass of wine in her hand. They talked mostly about work, because if Brenda was honest with herself, she wasn't sure she could talk about anything else. She didn't know anything about Sharon. She didn't go the movies. She didn't read books. She didn't keep up with the news outside what was going on in the LAPD. She realized suddenly that she must be an incredibly boring conversationalist.

Sharon didn't seem to mind, though. She smiled, and even laughed occasionally. She was gorgeous when she laughed.

And there it was again. Brenda kept getting distracted by how Sharon looked. Kept getting distracted by her voice. Kept losing her train of thought when Sharon ran her fingers through her hair.

And where the hell was that coming from? Brenda had always thought Sharon was beautiful, the way she sometimes thought other women were beautiful, but standing here in the kitchen, drinking wine and talking to her, that was all she could think about. And she was frightened by her thoughts. She was frightened by how badly she wanted to reach out and touch Sharon's hand. She wasn't ashamed; she was afraid of how Sharon might respond. She was afraid she might be thrown out of the house. She was afraid of what Sharon would say.

"I'm going to change my clothes," Sharon said suddenly, rising off the counter she'd been leaning against for going on two hours now. "Make yourself at home." She swept past Brenda without another word, and for the second time that day Brenda felt suddenly bereft in her absence.

Brenda wandered around the one-story home, looking at the picture frames she'd noticed on the way in, but hadn't had time to study. She picked one up and smiled. Sharon and two girls who had to be her daughters. Brenda ran her fingers across the picture, wondering if Sharon's hair had been red like theirs when she was young. Wondering if their father's eyes were brown like theirs. Wondering where their father was.

She put the picture down and set out to explore more of the house. She wanted to go sit in the atrium, but she couldn't quite figure out how to get in there, and so began to search for another door.

What happened next was a complete accident.

Sharon's children were grown, and had been out of the house for a while. Sharon had gotten used to living alone. Sharon had had three glasses of wine, and she wasn't thinking things through. Sharon had not closed her bedroom door when she stepped inside to change.

Brenda found her standing in the middle of her room, her back towards the door. She'd turned on a lamp by her bed instead of the overhead light, and in the soft glow of the room, she looked heavenly. She'd already slipped out of her shirt, and she was bent slightly at the waist, her long hair falling over one shoulder as she undid the clasp on her skirt. It slid to the ground, revealing lacy black panties that matched her bra. Expensive, and classy. Like Sharon herself.

Brenda's heart stopped in her chest.

She couldn't see all of Sharon like this, but she could see enough, and she fought the urge to cross the room and take Sharon in her arms. She wanted to touch her. She wanted so badly to touch her, but she couldn't move.

Sharon lifted her skirt on the end of one delicate foot, caught it in her hand, and tossed it in the general direction of the dirty clothes hamper on the other side of the room. She reached out without looking and picked her brush up off the dresser, and started running it through her hair, humming softly.

She looked almost magical then, mostly naked in the half darkness, and Brenda couldn't stop herself.

If asked about it later, she wouldn't be able to explain why she did what she did. Brenda often didn't understand her own motives; she acted, and then dealt with the consequences later.

She crossed the room to Sharon in a few short steps. Sharon continued to brush her hair, giving only the slightest indication that she knew Brenda was there when she stopped humming.

Brenda reached out with a tentative hand and stroked the curve of Sharon's spine from the base of her neck to the edge of her panties.

Sharon stopped brushing her hair.

"Chief-" she said softly, and Brenda found herself thrust suddenly back into reality.

"Oh God," Brenda cried, and practically leapt away from her. She buried her head in her hands, her traitorous hands, and fought the urge to cry.

Sharon wasn't entirely sure what she was thinking, when she realized the Chief was standing in her doorway. She should have asked her to leave, should have acted embarrassed, but she wasn't embarrassed, so she didn't. She stood there in her underwear, with the weight of the Chief's gaze on her, and tried to distract herself by humming.

And then Brenda had entered the room, and Sharon had stopped humming because she'd stopped breathing. She couldn't think, couldn't breathe, could barely keep her hand moving through her hair, but she had stood perfectly still and waited.

And when she'd felt the touch of Brenda's hand on her skin, she realized that was what she'd wanted all along.

She had sort of left the door open on purpose. It had been three years since Chloe had gone away to college, and since then, except for holidays and summer breaks, the house had been hers. She'd gotten used to living alone. She left the door open because she usually did. But of course she'd known she wasn't alone, and whether she wanted to admit it or not, a part of her had hoped that Brenda would come looking for her. And when that hope had become a reality, she was amazed by how relieved she'd been. Relieved she wasn't the only one who was feeling…things.

And then she'd ruined it, of course, because she'd spoken. Maybe if she'd just kept her mouth shut, Brenda would be stripped down to her underwear now, too. But she wasn't. She was standing a good six feet away, head in her hands.

Sharon didn't know what to do. She knew what she wanted to do, but she wasn't sure what she should do. Then again, Sharon rarely did what she _should_ do when she was around Brenda Leigh Johnson, so she gave in to her own instincts.

She walked over to Brenda, painfully aware of her current state of undress, and reached out to her. "Brenda?" she asked, angry with herself for how timid she sounded.

"I'm sorry!" Brenda cried, flinching away. "I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking, you're just being so good to me, and you looked so…so…"

"Brenda, it's ok." Sharon said, reaching again and pulling her close. Brenda was still trying to hide her face in her hands but she didn't back away.

"No, it's not, I don't know why I ever thought that…" Brenda's voice trailed away as she shook her head against Sharon's chest.

"Brenda," Sharon started, but she was disheartened that she couldn't see her face. "Brenda," she said again, but still the woman didn't look up.

So Sharon gently nudged her chin until Brenda was looking up at her with tear stained eyes, and did the only thing that made sense.

She kissed her.

Brenda didn't know what to do when she felt Sharon's lips on her own; she just knew that this was exactly what she wanted, and she wanted to do whatever was necessary to keep Sharon's lips on her for as long as possible. She slipped her hands out from between them and placed them gingerly on Sharon's back.

Even that small concession had Sharon smiling against her mouth, and Brenda smiled right back, running her hands up and down the expanse of skin she'd only just grazed before. Her left hand came to rest in the small of Sharon's back, and her right hand ran up Sharon's neck and tangled in her hair.

Sharon made a soft sound of appreciation in the back of her throat and reached for the buttons on Brenda's shirt.

And that was the moment Brenda stopped thinking coherently.

Sharon's slender fingers were making quick work of her buttons, and Brenda decided to help things along by reaching behind her and undoing the zipper of her own skirt, kicking it away when it pooled around her ankles.

Sharon moaned when she pulled Brenda closer, feeling their skin touching, knowing they were both as far gone as she hoped they were.

Brenda's mouth slid away from Sharon's, down the long column of her throat, and Sharon moaned, slipping her thigh between Brenda's legs, pressing against her.

In a single instant of clarity, Brenda berated herself for not wearing her nice underwear today, but Sharon didn't seem to mind as she ground her leg against Brenda, and a moan slipped out between Brenda's mouth and Sharon's breast. She found the hard nub of Sharon's nipple under the black lace, and bit down until Sharon whimpered.

Brenda had never thought about what Sharon Raydor might sound like in this compromising position, but she knew that no sound she could have imagined would have been as good as the sounds Sharon was making right now.

Sharon was content for a while to let Brenda lead the way, but it was too much. She could feel Brenda's dampness against her leg, could feel her breath and teeth and tongue on her breast, and she couldn't take it anymore. She took hold of Brenda by the hips, and steered her toward the bed in a manner that left no room for discussion.

Brenda collapsed backwards on the bed, tugging Sharon down with her, and Sharon only had a moment to wonder at how lovely she was, with her blonde hair spilling across Sharon's pillows, her nipples puckering under the fabric of her bra and Sharon felt the need to touch her, everywhere. To hear her scream.

Brenda felt Sharon's long slender fingers slipping down her belly and towards the edge of her panties and let out a moan of anticipation and want, a sound that at any other time, with any other lover would have embarrassed her. It did nothing but spur Sharon on.

Sharon tugged Brenda's underwear down her legs, taking her time to feel the smooth skin, the goosebumps that followed the touch of her fingers. Brenda was all but whining when Sharon finally, finally slid back up her legs, and touched one finger gently to Brenda's sex at the same time she slipped her tongue into Brenda's mouth.

Brenda shuddered underneath her, opening to her in every possible way. Sharon added a finger and Brenda pulled her mouth away just long enough to say, "do you always have to go first?" before she flipped them over.

Sharon seemed genuinely shocked as she stared up at Brenda, who only grinned back at her.

"Brenda-" Sharon began, but she her words turned into a long moan when Brenda pushed two fingers inside her without preamble. Sharon arched up beneath her, begging, "please, oh, please…"

Brenda needed no encouragement. Sharon felt perfect underneath her, warm and soft and smooth and writhing just from the touch of Brenda's hand. Brenda leaned down to feather kisses along Sharon's jaw, thrusting her hand in and out of Sharon, surprised by how badly she wanted this.

And then Sharon's hands were on her again, her fingers dipping inside Brenda until she found the same rhythm, and they fucked each other in time with their gasping breaths until they cried each other's names in ecstasy, collapsing against one another.


	3. Chapter 3

When Brenda wakes up the first thing she notices is that she wrapped up with another a warm body, and that's when she realizes she's not in her own bed. It's been months since she and Fritz fell asleep tangled together and stayed that way. They have their own sides of the bed, and his and hers coffee mugs, mostly because Brenda keeps forgetting to wash hers out and Fritz has grown tired of doing it for her.

This is different, somehow, from those mornings they did wake up spooning. For one thing, Sharon isn't just holding her; Sharon seems to be trying to become part of her. Their arms and legs are tangled together, and Brenda is sure that if she could step outside herself and look at the picture they present, she would see dark hair and light mingled on the pillows with no definable beginning and end. Her head is resting on Sharon's breast, her mouth centimeters from Sharon's nipple, which is hard because the room is chilly and the blankets are pushed further down.

It's been a long time since one orgasm was enough to lull Brenda into sleep, and she tries to blame her lethargy the night before on the wine, but she knows it isn't true. There was something about Sharon, about the way she made Brenda feel, and the sex wasn't just good, it was fucking fantastic.

And that's when it really hits home, that Brenda had sex with Sharon Raydor last night. And not just decent sex, not even good sex, but fucking fantastic sex.

And Brenda wants to do it again. Soon.

There's a part of her that wants to wake Sharon with soft suckling kisses across her bare breast until they're in the same position they were in last night and Brenda can hear Sharon screaming and focus on the sound.

But she doesn't.

Because there's a part of her that knows this was a one-time thing. She has a husband, Sharon has children. There's a part of her that just knows that when she wakes up, Sharon will cease to be Sharon and become Captain Raydor, and start talking about rules and regulations and wedding vows and Brenda will be sent on her way with a "thank you" that sounds as insincere as the millions of "thank you"s that she herself has dished out over the years and she can't take that now. She can't handle the thought of what will happen when Sharon kicks her out of this bed, and so she does not move. She even closes her eyes, and focuses on nothing but the feel of Sharon Raydor underneath her.

But then Sharon is waking up, and Brenda is holding her breath, waiting to see what she will do. Sharon slips out from underneath her so easily that Brenda knows, were she actually sleeping, she wouldn't wake up. But she isn't asleep, and even though she considers faking it for the moment, even that deception seems like too much. So she stretches, yawning (faking sleep only a little bit) and smiles up at Sharon.

Sharon who has stopped at the end of the bed, naked and stunning with her bed-head.

Sharon smiles right back, and Brenda is relieved, because for right now, this moment, there is no Captain Raydor.

"Hey," Sharon says softly, and Brenda smiles back.

"Hey," she says.

"I'm going to take a shower," Sharon tells her. "You can sleep for a little while longer."

Brenda smiles and nods, because she doesn't know what to say.

Sharon is walking away, and it's not the first time Brenda has seen her naked back, but it is the first time she has ever really looked at it, and she is surprised.

"You have a tattoo!" she says, sounding more awake than she was pretending to be.

Sharon stops again, turns, smiles.

"Yes," she says, and the tattoo is a rose on her right shoulder, and Brenda doesn't know why it's there but she wants to and this curiosity about Sharon's life scares her.

"It…" Sharon starts, trails off. "My…" She starts again, then stops. Shakes her head, smiles. "It's not important. Go back to sleep."

And so Brenda nods and smiles again, but she knows what Sharon really meant. Sharon meant _you don't need to know, we don't need to do this, please don't ask me to open my life up to you._

And that hurts worse, somehow, than the knowledge that Brenda cheated on her husband. She doesn't know why, but it does.

She pulls the blanket up around her shoulders and closes her eyes, but she knows she won't sleep. She knows she'll lie there and worry, but she doesn't want to stand around and worry somewhere else, so she stays.

Sharon is standing in the shower, under the hot water, berating herself for being so fucking stupid.

She'd like to blame it on the wine, but Sharon knows it takes more than 3 glasses of wine to get her to the "having sex with someone I really shouldn't stage"; in all honesty, a whole bottle probably wouldn't be enough. She had sex with Brenda because she wanted to.

And Brenda was married, and that was the one thing Sharon swore she'd never do, because she knew what it felt like to be on the other side of it, remembered what it did to her kids, what it did to her, and for God's sake she _knows_ Agent Howard, she sees him all the time.

She wonders if Brenda has really gone back to sleep, wonders how much time she has to put together some kind of plan for how to move forward. Wonders if there really is a tactful way to say _I really enjoyed fucking you last night, and I'd love to do it again, but I don't think it's going to work because you're married (to a man) and I don't believe in cheating (because I've been cheated on and it nearly broke me). _

Nope, she decides, there is no tactful way to say it, but someone has to, and the last thing she wants is for Brenda to reject her first, so she climbs out of the shower, no plan in place yet. She towel dries her hair, pulls her bathrobe off the hook behind the door, wraps it around herself. It is this big fluffy white thing she stole from a hotel once but she pretends like she bought it because Sharon has long since stopped being the sort of woman who stole a nice bathrobe from a hotel once. She pulls it on partially because she loves its softness, and partially because she wants to be fully covered and completely unsexy when she steps out to talk to Brenda, who may very well be as naked and gorgeous as she was when Sharon left her twenty minutes ago.

When Sharon stepped out of the bathroom, swaddled in something white and fluffy, her hair hanging in lose damp curls all around her face, Brenda's heart nearly stopped. That woman was just as beautiful as she'd been last night when Brenda's self-control had snapped. She may as well have walked out of the bathroom stark naked and jumping up and down, for Brenda could not take her eyes off the brunette leaning in the doorway between bathroom and bedroom.

"I don't have anything to wear," Brenda said sheepishly, still lying under the covers on Sharon's bed, which Brenda had only just now realized was _huge_- good Lord was it a California king? The thing was almost twice the size of the bed Brenda shared with Fritz, and Sharon was all alone! But then that thought made Brenda sad, too, and she tried to focus on what was happening right now and not all the little things about Sharon Raydor that made her a little bit sad.

Sharon just smiled. "No, you don't, do you?" she said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that I'd rather you not go into work at all than go in wearing that sweater again."

And Sharon vanished with that little smirk on her face. That smirk used to make Brenda want to physically assault her. Now all she wanted to do was kiss Sharon until the smirk got lost underneath the weight of their desire for one another. She had no idea where Sharon had gone, but she didn't particularly want to climb out of bed and go gallivanting around the house naked when Sharon was almost completely covered in what could very well have been the skin of a polar bear.

So she waited.

She didn't have to wait long, it turned out, because Sharon quickly returned with a few hangers dangling off one delicate hand.

"I don't think you and I are quite the same size, Chief," she said, and Brenda immediately recognized her "Captain Raydor" voice, and felt a little heartsick at the familiar aloofness of her tone. "But I think you and Emma are, and she left some things here."

She was holding out the clothes, and Brenda realized that Sharon intended for her to crawl out of bed and take them from her. She did so, begrudgingly.

The skirt was brown and flowing, about knee-length, and there was a light pink tank top, and a jacket to go over it. The jacket was a little broader through the shoulders than Brenda would have liked, but the rest of it fit like a glove, and she couldn't help but wonder how exactly it was Sharon knew they would fit. She finished pulling herself together, watching as Sharon dressed herself in front of her closet.

Her _huge_ closet. It had two doors. It took up a whole wall. It was organized by sleeve-length, pant-length, skirt-length. Not a hanger out of place.

Brenda honestly didn't know why she was surprised anymore.

She couldn't stop watching, though, as Sharon pulled one of those sharp pin-striped suits over plum-colored lace. Her underwear was a matching set today, too, and Brenda realized that this was Sharon Raydor, and her underwear probably always matched, and her panties were probably more expensive than any of Brenda's outfits.

She looked good in the almost-purple color, though, and Brenda was sad to see her slip the trousers up and over her perfect hips.

Brenda wished like hell that Sharon wasn't so damn perfect, or at least that she was easier to dislike. Brenda was finding it hard to disentangle herself from Sharon, and the woman hadn't spoken since returning with the clothes.

"Sharon," she said cautiously.

"Hmm?" Sharon answered, not saying anything.

"Are we gonna….talk about what happened?" Brenda hated talking, but Fritz loved talking, and supposedly that's what women were supposed to do, talk about their feelings, especially when sex was involved, and they were both women, so shouldn't that mean twice as much talking? She thought it did, so she made the overture, and waited for the outpouring of emotion from Sharon.

Sharon just shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm not sure there's a lot to say, Chief," she said, pulling on her jacket, completing her outfit. She bent slightly, studying the shoes in her closet, looking for the perfect pair, her posture so reminiscent of what Brenda had seen last night that the Deputy Chief couldn't stop herself.

She was on Sharon before she realized what she was doing.

Sharon knew, just knew, when she shrugged and bent over like that she was asking for trouble, but honest to God, she didn't want to give the "we can never do this again" speech. Even if she should. She wanted to see what Brenda would do.

And Brenda had done exactly what she had expected. Brenda had launched herself at Sharon, and they were kissing almost violently now, and Brenda had practically torn off Sharon's jacket, it was going to be wrinkled by the time they were done…

Sharon pushed Brenda back so hard the blonde flopped on the bed, looking confused and almost scared for a moment before Sharon placed a hand on each of her knees and knelt down between them.

She felt Brenda shudder all over at the implications of that and watched her drop her legs wide open.

Sharon tried not to think about the fact that Brenda was wearing Emma's skirt.

She lifted the skirt up to the other woman's hips, and chuckled when she saw Brenda had not put on her underwear. Just as well, really, they were bound to be ruined after yesterday's… activities.

Sharon dropped her mouth to Brenda's sex, almost unsurprised to find her lover was already wet. She probably had been since the moment they woke up. Sharon knew this, because she herself had been.

Brenda could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times previous lovers had eaten her out, and none of those experiences could hold a candle to the first two minutes of feeling Sharon Raydor's tongue and lips on her slit. She cried out when Sharon slipped her tongue between her folds, thrusting until Brenda was almost writhing on the bed, and then retreating. Licking a path up to Brenda's clit, latching on.

Brenda was moaning, all out moaning, as she felt the edges of Sharon's teeth brush her clit. And then Sharon wrapped her lips around it and _hummed_, actually hummed, that sound she was always making, and Brenda flew apart, gasping and clutching at the sheets because somehow she thought Sharon might be a bit miffed if Brenda went and messed up her hair.

Sharon rose to her feet with a contented little smile on her face and Brenda couldn't let that stand, she just couldn't, so she hooked her feet behind Sharon's knees and pulled the Captain down on top of her.

"Now Captain," Brenda practically growled into her ear, nibbling at the lobe, "I think it's my turn. One of these days, you're going to have to let me go first."

Brenda didn't try to think too hard about what she was saying. _One of these days_ made it sound like this was just the beginning of something, like they had a lot more days like this to look forward to. And Brenda didn't need that kind of pressure just now. So she focused on fucking Sharon, and decided to worry about everything else later.


	4. Chapter 4

Brenda stood in Sharon's shower, awed by the sheer number of bottles before her. No wonder Sharon always looked (and smelled) perfect. Brenda traced her fingers over the labels, trying to decide which one to use, wondering if anyone would be able to smell Sharon on her once she got to work.

Brenda was certain she could still smell her. Brenda was certain she could still feel her; Sharon's tongue inside her, Sharon's heat against her hand. She shivered, despite the scalding temperature of the water.

With the exception of a few minor incidents in college (and it seemed everyone had those stories) Brenda had never really been with a woman. She had worried about her lack of experience briefly that morning, when she was stone-cold sober and wide awake. She wondered about Sharon, and just how much _experience_ she had in this department, but based on the things that she had done to Brenda, the way she had made her feel, Brenda was willing to bet that this was not a first-time thing for Sharon.

That thought thrilled her as much as it troubled her.

She slipped out of the shower and set to work on her hair, mind still firmly set on the Captain.

Sharon had left her gracefully that morning. She hadn't batted an eye when Brenda suggested that it might be strange if they showed up to work together. Brenda hadn't mentioned that the strangeness might be compounded by the fact that Brenda was wearing Sharon's daughter's clothes. Not to mention that Sharon had fucked Brenda while she was wearing her daughter's clothes. Sharon had just smiled, kissed Brenda on the cheek, and started the coffee maker so it would be ready by the time Brenda finished her shower.

Brenda gave up on her hair halfway through blow-drying it, having discovered that she simply didn't have the will power to fight with her hair this morning. She pulled it up into a damp ponytail, and set about putting on her borrowed clothes. She didn't bother with her panties. On a whim she decided to leave them at Sharon's house; an excuse to come back later.

And there it was again, this notion that this was not the last time Brenda would spend the night in Sharon's bed.

Brenda traipsed back into Sharon's kitchen, the smell of fresh coffee assaulting her nostrils. She discovered that Sharon had set out a mug and a container of creamer for her. She'd also left a note with her address on it, so Brenda could call a cab.

_That woman really does think of everything,_ Brenda thought to herself with a smile. She fixed herself a cup, and then rummaged through her purse for her phone. She pulled it out, and the smile faded as quickly as it had appeared.

She had one missed call from Fritz, and one text message.

_Went by your office. You weren't there. I'm sorry. Please come home. I love you._

Brenda's husband was worried about her, and she had fucked another woman. The coffee mug fell out of Brenda's hand, shattering on the tile of Sharon's floor.

When Sharon got into work, the pleasant feeling that had taken up residence in the bottom of her stomach promptly evaporated.

She didn't know what she was thinking, bouncing around the house this morning like the heroine in a bad chick flick. There would be no happy ending to this story. They didn't have sex and live happily ever after. There were ramifications. They would pay for the few brief moments of happiness they had stolen for themselves.

Brenda rolled into the office quite a bit later than normal, but no one had called her, and the case they'd picked up yesterday was turning out to be remarkably simple. Another guy who shot his wife for cheating. And that particular motive seemed both remarkably appropriate and unbearable this morning.

The whole squad was gathered in the murder room, chatting amiably when she walked in. They smiled at her when they saw her.

"Morning, Chief," Gabriel said.

She nodded to him, mildly distressed by how happy everyone seemed to be to see her. She knew her clothes were neat and she'd actually showered this morning, and she knew it was obvious she'd gotten a good night's sleep, but did they all have to look so smug about it?

"Agent Howard's waiting in your office, Chief," Flynn told her, and Brenda's good mood disappeared, replaced by what could only be described as panic.

"Thanks so much, Lieutenant," she said, hoping her voice wasn't shaking. She began the long walk to her office like a condemned prisoner heading for the gallows.

She didn't want to open the door. She didn't want to see Fritz. If Fritz tried to kiss her, she didn't want to wonder if he could taste Sharon on her. She'd used Sharon's toothbrush, because she didn't even have that much with her when she'd gone over there last night.

Had it only been last night? It felt lifetimes away. She felt alternately like she'd been fucking for Sharon for years, and like she never had at all.

Her hand connected with the door handle, and her heart stopped beating as she pushed it open and stepped inside.

Fritz was sitting behind her desk, looking as exhausted as she had felt yesterday, and she was suddenly overcome by guilt for how well put-together she must seem now. She hoped they wouldn't make up too much; she didn't want to explain to him why she'd come back from Sharon Raydor's house without her panties.

"Brenda," Fritz said, rising out of his chair, hope springing in eyes that moments before had seemed hollow. "I was so worried about you. Where have you been?"

Brenda smiled tightly at him. "I'm sorry I missed your call, honey, I really am. I was at Captain Raydor's house and we were talking and I didn't hear it."

Fritz stared at her, dumfounded, like a man who's begun to wonder if real life is the dream and the dream is real life. "You were where?"

"The Captain offered me a place to stay." Brenda didn't mention that the place Sharon had offered her to stay was located directly between Sharon's legs.

"Oh. Are you going to stay there again tonight?" he asked, looking slightly crestfallen. Had he been hoping Brenda wouldn't have anywhere else to go? Had he been hoping she'd realize how much she needed him?

"Not if you don't want me to," Brenda said quietly, realizing only after the words were out that she actually meant them. She felt worse than guilty for what she'd done. She felt more than dirty. She wanted to sink through the floor. Sharon had been kind to her, and Brenda had repaid her by dragging her into this mess. Fritz had loved her, and Brenda had repaid him by giving her love to someone else.

"I don't want you to," he said, drawing closer to her. "I want you to come home. I want my wife. I'm sorry."

He reached out and took her in his arms, and it felt so different from the way Sharon had held her the night before that Brenda shuddered, but she tried to cover it by faking tears against his chest. Big crocodile tears that rapidly devolved into stuttering sobs as the full force of what she'd done hit her.

"It's ok, baby, it's ok," he told her kissing her hair. But it wasn't ok. It was never going to be ok.

Brenda had her husband, and she knew he never had to find out what she'd done. She could tell Sharon to throw her underwear away. Box up the clothes Sharon had given her and mail them to her house; she had her address now. She could pretend that Sharon was still the Wicked Witch and that she still loved Fritz. But she would never forget the feel of Sharon Raydor, never forget the way she felt when they moved together. If Brenda never went back to Sharon, she could live, but she would have lost a vital piece of herself. Her heart, and maybe her humanity, too. She let Fritz hold her until she finished crying, let him think she was crying for what they'd done to each other. He'd never in his wildest dreams imagine that she was crying for an oversized bed that was much too big for the sad, perfect woman who slept in it alone.


	5. Chapter 5

As Sharon prepared herself to leave the office and head back to her sprawling, empty house, she discovered she didn't feel particularly heartbroken. She felt a little used, a little tawdry (especially after she heard the rumor floating around that Agent Howard and Deputy Chief Johnson had made up) but she wasn't devastated. And she was a little sad about that fact, because she had the feeling that, given a little time, Brenda Leigh Johnson could have made her feel devastated. Could have owned a piece of her. But Sharon Raydor did not give herself away so easily, regardless of how she may have behaved in the last twenty-four hours. She promised herself that the next time she saw the Chief she would be polite and distant, she would not bring up what they had done, and she would not waste time pining over what they could have been.

In a twisted sort of way she was looking forward to the next time she would cross paths with the blonde Chief. Brenda would almost certainly have done something wrong, and Sharon could just be the Wicked Witch, cold and distant and faintly mocking, and Brenda would almost certainly be fumbling all over herself because she had seen Sharon naked and Sharon wouldn't act like it mattered.

Sharon knew that was all she had left, little moments when she could take the high road, and beat Brenda at whatever game that woman was playing.

Even if Brenda hadn't behaved like she was playing a game.

Even if Brenda had seemed to genuinely care about Sharon.

Even if Sharon had loved the way Brenda looked, tangled naked in Sharon's sheets and smiling up at her.

_Goddamnit, Sharon, pull yourself together,_ she told herself angrily as the elevator dropped one floor at a time. She stepped out of it, walked out of the building, meandered the however-many blocks it was from the (really shitty) new building to where everyone with less than two stars on their collars had to park.

Sharon was fully prepared for a quiet night at home by herself. She was planning on cooking something simple for dinner. Maybe calling the girls; she hadn't talked to either of them this week.

Sharon was not prepared to find Brenda Leigh Johnson sitting on the hood of her car, looking vaguely lost.

Brenda sat on the hood of Sharon's Mercedes, trying to pretend she hadn't done the exact thing to Will Pope six years ago. Her motives each time had been completely different. She had planted herself on Will's car because he was avoiding her, because he had lied to her, and because she felt as if she was watching her life fall apart. She was sitting on the hood of Sharon's car right now because she didn't know where else to go. She would eventually go home, because she had promised Fritz she would and she was at the point in her life when she realized that everything she did was a choice, and she had to choose to keep her promises. But she had to see Sharon before she went home. Had to know if everything that had happened between them was real. If it meant anything at all to Sharon. She was sitting on the hood of Sharon's car because she felt as if she was watching her life fall apart.

And then Sharon appeared, like a vision in a pinstriped suit, and Brenda fought the urge to cry. How was she supposed to choose, exactly, to be a good wife to Fritz when all she wanted was to uncover the plum-colored panties and the rose tattoo hidden under those expensive clothes?

Sharon stopped short when she caught sight of Brenda, and the Deputy Chief hated herself for the look of confusion and almost hope that flashed across the Captain's face before she pulled herself together. Sharon cleared her throat and approached slowly, hips swaying enticingly even if she had no idea of the effect she was having on Brenda.

"Chief," Sharon said carefully, slowly, as she drew nearer her car. She unlocked it and tossed her bag into the back seat, waiting for Brenda to say something. Give some indication of what she was doing there.

Brenda didn't hop down off the car. She stayed frozen where she was, silent.

Sharon closed the door, leaned against it, sighed. She wasn't doing what she thought she would. She wasn't being cold or distant, she wasn't lording her own composure over a flabbergasted Brenda. She was fighting the urge to draw Brenda into her arms.

"I wanted to give you back Emma's clothes," Brenda said finally, sounding defeated. She wouldn't look at Sharon.

"You're still wearing them, Chief," Sharon told her gently, and Brenda burst into tears, burying her face in her hands.

Sharon felt as if this was one of those defining moments she would look back on when she was old. One of those moments when she was faced with a choice, and either option would lead her down a wildly different path. Mark her in some irreversible way. She hoped she would make the right choice. She didn't want one of the biggest regrets of her life to be a moment in a parking deck.

She lifted herself up off the car, and walked around to stand in front of Brenda, resting her hands on Brenda's knees.

Brenda continued to cry, and Sharon let her, unsure of what she needed to do or say in this moment. Sharon couldn't be the reason Brenda left her husband. For God's sake, they spent one night together! They barely tolerated each other! She couldn't let Brenda blame her for the end of her marriage. She just couldn't. It wasn't as if they loved each other.

"I have to go home, Sharon," Brenda told her when her sobs tapered off into gentle tears. "I have to, but I can't stand the way I feel when I hear you call me Chief. I can't walk away from you." She looked up at Sharon, her eyes dark and huge and lovely.

"Then let me walk away from you, Brenda," Sharon said softly, wishing those words didn't hurt as much as they did. "Please just let me go."

Before this moment, Sharon hadn't realized that there was anything to walk away from. She was familiar with one-night stands (even a few with co-workers, as awful as that sounded) but this was…different, somehow.

"What if I don't want you to?" Brenda asked.

"Sometimes you don't get what you want," Sharon answered, and repressed a shudder as the verbal blow landed on Brenda's shoulders. The Deputy Chief slipped off the hood of the car, defeated; but she landed on her feet.

"You can send the clothes down to my office tomorrow," Sharon said, climbing inside her car and closing the door. She watched Brenda walk away in the rearview, and started her car.

She cried the whole way home.


	6. Chapter 6

_You and tequila make me crazy  
>Run like poison in my blood<br>One more night could kill me baby  
>One is one too many<br>One more is never enough  
>When it comes to you<br>Oh, the damage I could do  
>It's always your favorite sins<br>That do you in_

_-Kenny Chesney and Grace Potter, "You and Tequila"_

Being home with Fritz felt surprisingly comfortable to Brenda after Sharon drove away. They ate take-out, they talked, they sat together on the couch going over papers from work and pretended they hadn't just a had a massive blow-out of a fight that had ended in Brenda fucking someone else. Of course, it was easier for Fritz to pretend since he didn't know about what had happened between Brenda and Sharon, and he was never going to.

His hand was resting on Brenda's thigh, and she tried not to shy away from it. She told herself she loved her husband, she was glad everything between them was ok, she was relieved Sharon wasn't going to make a big fuss about their night together.

Except she wasn't relieved. She couldn't believe how easy it had been for Sharon to just get in the car and drive away. _Sometimes you don't get what you want._

People were always saying that to Brenda, as if she was a child asking for dessert before dinner. Was she really asking for so much from Sharon?

What was she asking for anyway?

That was the crux of the problem, Brenda decided. She didn't know what she wanted from Sharon. She didn't know if she wanted to leave her husband and start something up with the green-eyed Captain, or if she wanted to stay with Fritz and have a little something on the side, or if she wanted to pretend like whatever had happened last night was just a mistake brought on by too much stress and a compassionate (and very beautiful) woman who had offered her a hand when she needed it.

"I'm going to bed, babe," Fritz said suddenly, rising off the couch and dropping his papers on the table. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Are you coming with me?" he asked.

Brenda looked up at him, the smile she knew he expected firmly in place. Was she coming with him? Where the hell else could she go?

"I'll be along in a little while, you go on," she told him, reaching out and squeezing his hand briefly. He looked crestfallen for a second, but then he nodded and headed off for their room.

Their room. Their bed. Their house.

Brenda couldn't sleep in that bed, knowing what she did, feeling the way she did, the image of Sharon Raydor burned into the backs of her eyelids so that was all she saw every time she closed her eyes.

She was in her car and halfway to Sharon's house before she realized what she was doing.

Sharon was sitting on her couch, staring at some files and trying not to think about the look on Brenda's face when Sharon turned her back on her.

But Sharon had done the right thing. Hadn't she? Brenda had instigated the whole thing. Both times. And Sharon had known what she was doing, had known what she had hoped Brenda would do, and Brenda couldn't be blamed for following where Sharon was leading, could she?

_Stop it, Sharon,_ she told herself angrily, flipping the page in her lap. Even though she hadn't read it. She hadn't read anything. She hadn't eaten. She hadn't called the girls. She had just moped around the house, feeling shitty about what had happened, and trying to convince herself she was doing the right thing.

Even if all she wanted was to see Brenda come walking back through her door.

But that would just ruin things, wouldn't it? Sharon wasn't sure she could live with the guilt of being "the other woman", even if Brenda did leave Agent Howard. Sharon couldn't be that woman, the one who took what she wanted without any consideration of other people's feelings. That was Brenda's job, wasn't it?

Except Brenda had backed away from her last night. Brenda had taken a step back, and Sharon could have politely asked her to leave the room, and put on her robe and pretended like nothing had happened and Brenda could have slept in the guest room like Sharon had originally planned. And if they hadn't had sex, maybe Sharon wouldn't feel so fucked up about everything.

Except that she probably would have felt trampled on and dirty, even if she hadn't had sex with Brenda. Sharon had caught herself thinking about the Chief in a less than professional way more than once. Sharon had harbored a purely uncalled-for dislike of Agent Howard from the day she discovered that he was in fact Brenda's husband. He was a good guy, but Sharon had almost hated him because he had Brenda, and Sharon didn't. Having Brenda, even just for a night, hadn't made those feelings go away, but not having her wouldn't have made them go away, either.

_You're not making any sense, Sharon_.

She shook her head, mildly disgusted with herself, and tried to pay more attention to the files in front of her, but she couldn't. She had almost decided to go to bed when she heard the knock on her front door.

Brenda had managed to keep herself together until Sharon opened the door. She looked… peaceful, really, in loose sweatpants and a tight tank-top, her hair an unruly mess. Brenda had a whole list of things she wanted to say, but Sharon never gave her a chance.

Sharon grabbed her by the hips and pulled her into the house, slamming the door as she pushed Brenda up against it, kissing her like the world was on fire.

And maybe it was.

Sharon hadn't thought this through, exactly. She just wasn't sure that Brenda was real, that she hadn't dreamed her up, and she needed to know. She needed to feel her. She needed to tell her how sorry she was for walking away, how much she needed her, that she didn't mean what she said. That sometimes you do get what you want.

So she kissed her, and Brenda kissed her right back, wrapping her arms around her, pulling her so close Sharon felt for a moment as if the blonde woman before her was trying to mold them into a single person. And there was nothing she wanted in this moment more than that.

Brenda pulled away long enough to tug Sharon's tank top up and over her head, and the blonde released a surprised little gasp when she discovered Sharon wasn't wearing a bra. Sharon didn't take time to explain, or say anything really; she was too busy trying to get Brenda's shirt off, to feel the rush of the Chief's pale skin under her own.

Brenda pulled away, undoing the clasp of her own bra, eyes pleading. "I didn't leave him, Sharon," she said.

"I don't care," Sharon answered, and in that moment, she really didn't.

Sharon lowered her mouth to Brenda's breast, catching the nipple between her teeth, licking, sucking, biting. She needed this. Needed to feel Brenda here with her. Needed to hear the sounds she made.

Brenda's hands slid down to Sharon's waist, pulling her closer, their hips bumping together as Brenda moaned under Sharon's mouth.

"God, Sharon," she cried, and that was enough for Sharon. She hitched one of Brenda's long legs up around her waist, and slipped her hand along the length of smooth skin until it slipped up and under the skirt.

"Please," Brenda whimpered, her hands moving up to thread in Sharon's hair, tangling there. Sharon smiled against the blonde's breast, and did as she was told.

She slipped two fingers up and into Brenda, and felt her shudder, crying out, impossibly wet, coming just from the first touch of Sharon's hand.

"Jesus," Sharon whispered against her skin.

"I've been thinking about you all day," Brenda gasped, "Thinking about how much I need you."

Brenda didn't just want Sharon; she needed her. She felt like she was going to fly apart without her Captain there to smile and say the right thing, touch her softly and tell her everything was going to be ok. She wasn't sure she had ever felt this way about Fritz, but she wasn't going to worry about it now, not when Sharon's fingers were still inside her, still moving, unrelenting in her quest to claim every piece of Brenda for herself.

Sharon didn't know what to say, so she didn't say a word. She just latched onto the inside of Brenda's breast, leaving a mark because fuck it this was where she belonged, and pistoning her fingers inside the Deputy Chief.

"Sharon, please, please," Brenda was begging now, bucking against Sharon's hand, shivering under her mouth, pressed up against the door in the entryway of Sharon's house because they hadn't even said _hello_ before falling together.

Sharon pressed her thumb against Brenda's clit, rubbing harder and harder the louder Brenda begged until the Chief was coming a second time. Sharon pulled her close with her free hand, holding her tight and wondering if a third orgasm in a row was out of the question.

As soon as she was able, Brenda reached down and grabbed Sharon's wrist, holding it still.

"Bed," she said, reduced to one-word sentences by the force of two orgasms in a row and the breathless beauty of Sharon Raydor in front of her, naked from the waist up, hair impossibly mussed by Brenda's own hands.

They fumbled into Sharon's bedroom, kissing and touching as much as they could as they moved, Brenda's legs still wobbly. By the time they reached the doorway, Brenda had tugged Sharon's sweatpants and underwear down into a jumbled mess at her feet that Sharon kicked away, not looking to see where they went. Sharon quickly had Brenda similarly undressed, and they fell onto the bed together, a tangled mess.

Brenda nuzzled the valley between Sharon's breasts, kissing freckles and smiling against the heat of her skin. Sharon ran her hands tenderly over Brenda's hair, murmuring nonsense words into her ear.

This felt right. Fritz's hand on her leg had scared Brenda, and Sharon's hand trailing circles on her bare back felt right. Felt like home.

"What are we gonna do?" Brenda asked, mapping the topography of Sharon's chest with her lips and tongue, making notes for later as her lover shifted and sighed beneath her.

"We'll figure it out," Sharon told her in that voice that sent a thrill down Brenda's spine, even when it shouldn't. Since the first time Brenda had met her, when Sharon had resolutely ignored her, the sound of Sharon's voice had enchanted her. Brenda realized with a smile that they were two women who let nothing stand in their way, and she hoped this would be no different.

She turned Sharon over onto her stomach, surprised by how pliant the woman seemed beneath her gentle hands. She moved her hair out of the way, kissed her neck, her shoulders, her tattoo, hands roaming down over territory she hadn't taken the time to discover in their fumbling the night (and morning) before.

"God I love your ass," Brenda said appreciatively, running a hand over the body part in question, and Sharon giggled.

"Do you," she asked, her head turned sideways on the pillow, her hands tucked up underneath it.

"I do," Brenda told her, grinning against her hair. "I find myself staring at it at all the wrong times."

"Well, lucky for us it's not a bad time, then," Sharon said, gasping as Brenda's hand slid over the curve of her ass and down between her legs, gentle fingers running over wet folds.

"Lucky us," Brenda husked in her ear, pushing a finger up into Sharon.

Sharon groaned against the pillow; it was everything she wanted and not nearly enough at the same time. She ground her hips back against Brenda's hand, trying to pull her in deeper.

"Is this what you wanted, Sharon?" Brenda asked. She usually never talked during sex. She and Fritz did the deed and moved on. And recently, even their rather pedestrian sex had ground to a halt. Fritz blamed it on too much work, but Brenda knew that it was because she didn't need what he was offering her. Maybe she never had.

Brenda pushed a second finger inside Sharon, reaching underneath her with her free hand, searching through raspy curls until she found the little nub of Sharon's sex.

Sharon moaned aloud, clutching the pillow tighter, completely at Brenda's mercy. "There, God, right _there_," she cried, and Brenda obliged, leaning forward over her prone body to drop another kiss on the rose on her shoulder. "One day you're going to tell me the story behind this," she said, and thrust up into Sharon, hard, even as she rubbed her clit, and Sharon came apart beneath her, moaning her name.

Brenda rolled Sharon over just enough to tuck herself into her lover's arms, and sighed happily. Sharon kissed her temple, pulling her close.

"We'll figure it out," she said, voice already sleepy. Brenda lifted the blanket with her foot, caught it in her hand, pulled it over them.

"I know we will," Brenda said. And as she drifted off to sleep, she actually believed it.


	7. Chapter 7

_If you take me back  
>Back to your place<br>I'll try not to bother you I promise…  
>But it takes two when it used to take one<br>It takes two when it used to take only one_

_-Ryan Adams, "Two"_

Sharon was awoken by the angry growling of her stomach a few short hours later. She didn't immediately move; she found she was still wrapped around Brenda, and as hungry as she was, she was loath to move. They seemed to fit, somehow, like this. Naked and tangled together. And Sharon couldn't believe this was the second time in a row she had woken to the feel of a soft body clutched next to hers.

She hadn't eaten dinner, though, and as much as she would like to fall back to sleep in the warm bundle of blankets and body parts, she knew hunger would only make her miserable. Gingerly she began to ease herself off of Brenda, and watched in amusement as a slender arm snaked out and wrapped itself around her neck.

"Where're you goin'?" Brenda slurred, eyes closed, mouth set in what could only be described as a pout. Her arm around Sharon pulled the brunette closer, refusing to let her go.

"Food," Sharon answered, leaning forward and kissing the corner of Brenda's mouth, pulling her arm down and away. "I'll be back," she said, and finding herself unable to resist the temptation, she kissed Brenda a second time. Brenda grumbled, and borrowed into the vacant space Sharon left behind her as she slipped out of bed.

She scooped a button down shirt off her dresser, pulled on over her nakedness, and started fastening the buttons as she headed for the kitchen, trying to decide what she wanted to eat, her body buzzing pleasantly with the happiness of having exactly what she'd always wanted.

She'd fallen asleep with Brenda twice now, and each time she'd woken to the Chief's beautiful face, not alone as she feared. Sharon was too used to the disappointment of waking up alone, even when she didn't fall asleep that way, and the easy familiarity she'd found with Brenda was a welcome change. She wondered briefly how long this would last, and that thought scared her so badly she shied away from it, pulling cheese out of the fridge and rummaging for crackers in the cabinet, telling herself she needed to enjoy what she had for as long as she had it.

Even if there was a man across town who was probably pacing in his living room, scared and worried and pissed all at once, because Sharon had taken his wife away from him.

It was easy for Sharon to forget about Fritz when she was kissing Brenda, holding her tight, but in the still quiet of her kitchen his specter loomed like a ghost, reminding Sharon of the promises she was breaking and the consequences of her thoughtless actions that were bound to catch up with her one of these days.

There were soft footsteps behind her, and she turned to find Brenda, wrapped in Sharon's fluffy white robe and rubbing her drowsy eyes.

"You didn't have to get up," Sharon said quietly, fixing her snack and smiling at the blonde.

"You weren't there," Brenda shrugged, "so I didn't want to stay."

Sharon stared at her, unsure of what to say. She so often found herself unsure when it came to Brenda, and that too was a welcome change, in its own way.

"Are you hungry?" Sharon asked, and Brenda shook her head. Brenda stumbled across the kitchen, still not quite awake, and draped herself across Sharon's back, her arms latching around Sharon's waist, kissing the back of her neck.

"I like your robe," she said into Sharon's hair, and Sharon laughed.

"I like it, too."

Sharon turned in her arms, her lips finding Brenda's in a gentle, middle-of-the-night kind of kiss. Sharon's stomach chose that moment to rumble, however, and they parted with a laugh. Sharon turned her attention back to the food in front of her, and Brenda leaned against the counter next to her, content for the moment.

But only for the moment, because she was finally awake enough to start thinking clearly, and a thousand horrible thoughts landed in her head all at once.

"Shit," she swore under her breath, reaching for one of the crackers Sharon had prepared and popping it into her mouth.

"What?" Sharon asked, tense now. This was the moment she had been dreading. The instant Brenda realized what a mistake all of this had been, and left forever.

"I have to go home," Brenda answered, though she made no move to leave.

Sharon nodded. _Keep your chin up, Sharon,_ she told herself.

"I have nothing to wear tomorrow. And I didn't tell Fritz where I was going. I just sort of…left."

"You didn't tell him where you were going?" Sharon asked. She honestly didn't know why she was surprised anymore.

Brenda shook her head. "I needed to see you," she said quietly, as if that explained everything. In a way, it did.

"What are you going to tell him when you get home?" Sharon suddenly felt queasy, and she knew it wasn't from the crackers. _What have I done, what have I done, what have I done…_

"I'll think of something," Brenda told her, and headed off towards the bedroom, to gather up the clothes she had worn over and make herself presentable. Sharon stayed where she was, rooted to the spot.

_What were you expecting? _She thought angrily. _This is what happens when you sleep with a married woman. You get a few stolen hours and she goes home to him at the end of the day. _

It had been so long since Sharon had someone to come home to, and she fought the urge to cry. The loneliness was bearable, most days, but tonight the prospect of climbing back into her bed alone was intolerable.

Brenda reappeared, still wearing Emma's clothes. Sharon could see the struggle playing out on her lover's face; Brenda didn't want to go, but Sharon wasn't going to keep her. Sharon knew that a well-timed kiss, a few well-placed touches and some whispered words were all it would take to keep Brenda here with her, but Sharon couldn't do it. She had never liked feeling manipulated herself, and she hated the thought of doing something like that to Brenda. Brenda needed to go home, and Sharon needed to let her.

"Tell me I don't have to go, Sharon," Brenda said softly, her voice close to breaking.

"You have to go, Brenda," she said.

Brenda nodded, ran her fingers through her hair.

"Do you have time to see me tomorrow?" Sharon asked, desperately reaching for a way to keep all of this together, somehow.

"Why? Where?" Brenda's face lit up at the prospect, and Sharon knew she'd misunderstood the question.

"Maybe over lunch or something? We need to talk, Brenda. We need to figure this out. We can't have another night like tonight."

Brenda was struggling to keep the tears at bay. She knew Sharon was right. They couldn't keep doing this. They had to stop. They had to-

"I mean, you can't leave without telling Fritz," Sharon said quickly, rushing to Brenda and wrapping her arms around her. "I mean we have to think things through, we have to figure out where we're going." She kissed Brenda softly. "God, when you showed up at my door, I was so happy-"

Brenda kissed her back, stopping her words.

"I'll come by your office tomorrow. I'll call you. I'll do anything I have to," Brenda told her, and Sharon gently pushed her away, nudged her towards the door, because _God_ if she didn't leave right now, Sharon knew she never would. Sharon would never let her.

·······

Brenda had a whole speech planned. She knew exactly what she was going to say. She was prepared for everything.

Except the look on Fritz's face when she opened the door.

"Jesus, Brenda, where the hell have you been?" he said, coming as close as Fritz ever did to shouting.

"I'm so sorry, Fritz-"

"I got up to tell you something and you were gone; God Brenda I'd only been in bed for five minutes-"

"Fritz, please-"

"You can't do that to me! I called you and you left your phone here! You left your phone! You always have your phone, Brenda," he finished lamely. Brenda knew exactly what he was trying to say, though. She always had her phone. She was always willing to answer it, no matter what she was doing. Laying in bed with Fritz, eating dinner with Fritz, talking to Fritz, fucking Fritz; it didn't matter. The phone was there and if it rang she answered it.

And she'd left it behind to go to Sharon without any distractions.

"Will you let me explain?" she asked, amazed at how calm she sounded. Inside she was a wreck, horrified that she sounded so earnest when she was about to tell him a lie. When she could still smell Sharon on her skin.

"It'd better be good," he said, crossing his arms against his chest.

"I left because I needed to take these clothes back to Shar- Captain Raydor," Brenda said, plucking at the pink shell top she still wore. "She loaned them to me because all my stuff was dirty, and I'm not going to see her tomorrow. I wanted to get them back before I forgot."

"You're still wearing those clothes, Brenda," Fritz said.

"I got all the way to Captain Raydor's house before I realized I was still wearing them. It's been a long few days, honey," she told him with a pleading look in her eyes. _Please believe me, please believe me, please believe me…_

"Well, fine, but what did you do for the next three hours?" he demanded, slightly confused as to whether or not he believed her.

"We got to talking, and I guess I didn't realize how late it was."

"But you hate that woman!"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Fritz! I do not hate her! She gave me a place to stay when…" Brenda trailed off, not wanting to remind him of the two nights she had spent anywhere but in their bed.

Fritz just stared at her, defeated and confused and sleepy, and Brenda felt like she didn't recognize herself anymore. When did she become the sort of woman who would abandon her husband for the arms of another? When did she make that choice? Or had that choice already been made for her, long ago?

"You know what, Brenda? I don't care. Just come to bed, please?" he said, and she nodded.

"I'll be there in just a minute. Let me use the bathroom. I love you, honey," she said, and those words had never felt as much like a lie as they did right now.

Fritz just nodded. "Don't disappear again," he said as he walked away.

Brenda sighed in relief. She had a few moments now. She had a chance to pull herself together. She wouldn't have to explain to Fritz why she was returning from Sharon's house panty-less for the second time.

She went into the bathroom, and took of Emma's clothes, careful to fold them. She was never so careful with her own clothes, but these were a part of Sharon, and Brenda tried to be as careful with Sharon as she could.

She carefully washed her hands, her face, between her legs, trying to erase Sharon's scent from her skin, and that loss made her almost unbearably sad.

She straightened up, checking her reflection in the mirror, and it was only then that she remembered the dark bruise Sharon had left on the inside of her breast. She ran her fingers lightly over it, shivering at the slight pain and the memory of the mouth that had left it there.

She pulled an over-sized t-shirt out of the dirty clothes hamper, checking her reflection in the mirror, wondering if there were any other traces of her time with Sharon on her skin. She decided that even if she could still feel her, she couldn't see her, and she left the bathroom for the chill of her bed, and the tense body of her husband beside her.


	8. Chapter 8

Brenda went into work in the morning feeling somewhere between apprehensive and relieved. She was relieved to be out of the house, away from Fritz; she was relieved to see Sharon again, even though only last night she'd fallen asleep (however briefly) in that woman's arms. She was apprehensive because she didn't know what Sharon had to say, and she didn't know what to do. Brenda had no plan for this. Brenda didn't know where they were going to go from here. She wasn't angry at Fritz; she really did love him. She'd loved that he was there for her. But she felt something for Sharon, too, some kind of connection that kept dragging her back no matter how wrong she it knew it was.

And then there was the question looming in the back of her mind: if being with Sharon felt so right, so easy, so impossibly good, how could it be wrong?

···

Sharon waited in her office, unsure of how exactly to proceed once Brenda got there. She knew what she needed to say; she'd even written the words down after Brenda left the night before. She had found herself unable to go back to sleep once Brenda was gone, and had bummed around her kitchen, cleaning things that didn't need to be cleaned and obsessively scribbling down everything she wanted to say to Brenda, but had so far found herself unable to voice.

She stared at the words on the page, vaguely disgusted with herself. When, exactly, had she become the sort of woman who so desperately needed lists and rules and outlines to guide her life? What had happened to the old Sharon, the one who used to do things spontaneously, who used to laugh and smile and actually enjoy her life?

As Sharon reread the words she'd written she remembered exactly what had happened to that woman.

She shredded the page, deciding that whatever she said to Brenda would be her words, from the heart, not some speech she'd planned like a high school homework assignment.

···

When Brenda entered Sharon's office, the first thing she did was lock the door. In hindsight, this was probably not the right way to set the tone for the conversation they were about to have. But they only had thirty minutes for lunch, and Brenda greatly needed some time with Sharon, the way she was in the early morning hours in kitchen, not Captain Raydor, with her rulebook and her files and the risk of her squad interrupting.

Brenda didn't take anytime to look around the office, even though this was the first time she'd stepped foot in Sharon's territory. She only needed to see Sharon, her hair straight and loose around her face, her suit neat and crisp, and her heart warmed in her chest. She wasn't sure, exactly, how the hatred she had felt for Sharon had disappeared that night the other woman took her hand and led her to the elevator, but it was gone, and in its place was a feeling of desire that spurred Brenda into action.

Sharon was sitting behind her desk and hadn't bothered to stand up when Brenda entered, though she did raise an eyebrow as she heard the lock on the door engage. She remained seated, the smallest of smiles tugging at the corner of her mouth, as Brenda swept across the office and straight down into Sharon's lap, her hands tangling in dark tresses as she claimed Sharon's mouth in a kiss.

And for a moment, with the Deputy Chief sprawled across her lap, that awful skirt hiked up and slender legs straddling her own, Sharon allowed herself to be lost in the moment. To forget that just a few days ago Brenda would gladly have thrown her under the bus for her own gain.

Except Sharon had never been sure that Brenda actually would have betrayed her. Sure, they positively loathed each other in the beginning; the case involving two officers who were killed by neo-Nazis leapt to mind. Sharon was certain Brenda had no idea, but as Sharon left Kevin Webber's room, she'd heard Brenda mutter the word "bitch" under her breath. That had hurt, more than Sharon was willing to admit to herself at the time, but now, with Brenda pressed against her, her tongue in her mouth, Sharon realized that from the beginning this was all she'd ever wanted. And maybe, just maybe, Brenda felt the same way.

Sharon finally broke away, nudging Brenda back just far enough to get some room to breathe. Brenda leaned back, running her fingers through blonde curls. She seemed tired; Sharon was certain she hadn't gotten a good night's sleep either.

"We need to talk, Brenda," she said quietly, wishing her voice wasn't absolutely dripping with longing. In this moment all she really wanted was to push Brenda back against the desk, to have her again, but she knew she couldn't. She knew she had to put her foot down.

Brenda slipped off her lap and perched on the edge of her desk, waiting to hear what Sharon had to say. This was the moment Brenda had been dreading; just as Sharon had known the night before that Brenda was always going to go back to Fritz, Brenda had known that Sharon was going to come to her senses, eventually. She just wished it had taken longer. She wished for more time.

"I can't keep doing this," Sharon said, waving her hand between the two of them. "I just can't."

"I understand, Captain," Brenda said coolly, trying to hold herself together, wondering if she would make it all the way back to her office before she broke down, or if she'd have to stop and cry in the bathroom first.

"No, Brenda, I don't think you do," Sharon said softly. She'd noted the use of her rank, and that was the last thing she wanted. She didn't want them to throw the walls back up, to use their brief intimacy as fuel for the hatred that had once burned between them.

"Well, why don't you enlighten me?"

Brenda's tone cut Sharon to her core, but she put on her best Captain Raydor face and soldiered on.

"I don't want to stop seeing you. If anything, I want to see more of you. I want you all the time, Brenda," she said, her voice taking on a pleading note as she reached out for Brenda's left hand. "But I can't keep doing this." She ran the tip of her finger over Brenda's wedding ring.

"Sharon-"

"And it occurs to me," she said, talking quickly now, because Brenda needed to know this, even if it would kill Sharon to say it out loud, "that maybe you need to understand why this is the one thing I can never do. I can't let you cheat on your husband, Brenda, because he's a good man and I can't be responsible for you breaking his heart. I _can't_," her voice was cracking now, but this was a story that needed to be told, "I can't have an affair with you because I know what it feels like, to be on the other side."

Brenda stared at her, her eyes softer and sadder now than they had been moments before.

"When I was pregnant with Chloe, I worked until they told me I couldn't any more. The first day I was home on maternity leave, I was sitting in the house, going stir crazy, when I heard someone come in through the front door. They used a key, so I assumed it was my husband. I thought he'd come home early to surprise me, because he knew I'd be miserable. So I walked into the living room, and… and it wasn't him. It was a woman I'd never seen before. A very pretty woman. And as soon as she saw me, Brenda, you should have seen her face. She wasn't sorry. She wasn't embarrassed. She was pissed off. She said, _you weren't supposed to be home._ And then she turned around and left."

Sharon was still holding Brenda's hand, and Brenda shifted in her grip so that their fingers were interlaced.

"Evidently, he'd been coming home at lunch and having sex with this woman for weeks, and he just forgot to tell her that he couldn't that day. When I told him what happened, he walked out the door and he never came back. He sent movers for his stuff. He didn't even try to get visitation rights with the kids. He just left me, left us, _for her…" _Sharon's voice trailed off as the tears she'd been holding back threatened to fall. She couldn't cry, not now, she wasn't finished yet, she had so much more to say-

"Sharon," Brenda breathed, her eyes glazed with tears, but Sharon shook her head.

"I don't pretend to know how you feel about me, or about your husband, but I don't see how you could possibly want to leave someone you've been with years for someone you hated just a few days ago. If you decide that you don't want to be married because you don't want to be married, that's fine, come and find me and I'll be waiting. If you think you don't want to be married because it's hard, or that you do want to be married but you want to have a little something on the side, Brenda, I'm not your girl. And that's what I needed to tell you. I can't see you again until you figure yourself out."

Sharon slipped her hand out of Brenda's grip.

Brenda ran her hands over her face, devastated at the outpouring of emotion from Sharon, and repulsed by herself. How could she have done this? How could she have done this to Fritz? How could she have done this to Sharon? She had been the other woman before. She had been the woman in the living room, when she was with Will Pope. She remembered how used that had made her feel, how dirty the whole thing was, and she had done the same thing to Sharon.

"I-I'm so _sorry,_" she said, her voice wavering.

"I know," Sharon told her gently.

They stayed frozen in place for a while, Brenda on the desk in front of Sharon, Sharon clutching the armrests of her chair so hard her knuckles were turning white.

_So this is how it ends,_ Sharon thought. A whirlwind romance that had begun and then imploded in a spectacular fashion in what, two days? And they were going to have to find a way to work together. A way to see each other all the time without breaking down, without crossing the line Sharon had drawn. Sharon knew that she had done the right thing, but she felt as if she'd lost a piece of herself.

"You should go," she said softly, rising and crossing her office to the door, unlocking it. The click of the lock seemed oddly final, like a book closing on the last page.

"Are we going to be ok?" Brenda asked, sliding off the desk and on to her feet, approaching Sharon hesitantly.

"I'm not angry at you, Brenda. Are you angry at me?"

Brenda shook her head, biting her lip.

"Then I think we're going to be ok. We just have to do our jobs, and I think we'll be ok."

Brenda nodded and headed for the door. When she drew level with Sharon she simply couldn't stop herself. She leaned over, and kissed the Captain on the corner of her mouth.

"Good-bye, Sharon," she said, and even though she knew she'd be seeing the Captain again, probably in a matter of days the way things had been going, she couldn't help but feel as if she were losing Sharon forever.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: So this chapter was done quickly and with no beta, so please don't hate me if there are any grammar mistakes. Feel free to hate me for the angst, though. **

_You say it's over again and again_

_This time you've had enough_

_Girl I know you've been fighting with him_

_When you need my love_

_Oh I wish I could just say no_

_And get you out of my heart_

_It must be nice to have some place to go_

_When your world falls apart_

_He'll call tomorrow with the same ol' line_

_And you'll forget about us_

_I'll be lonely until the next time_

_When you need my love_

_-Darryl Worley, "When You Need My Love"_

_···_

The next few weeks passed in a blessed kind of calm for Sharon and Brenda both. Brenda found her routine with Fritz again. It was easy, to kiss him good-bye in the mornings, to eat dinner together (when Brenda wasn't too busy), to argue about the dishes and the newspaper and where Brenda left her shoes. It was easy, and it almost felt like the way her life ought to have been.

Except for the nights, after Fritz went to sleep and Brenda lay awake, cold and lonely with no one's arms around her. The nights were the hardest. She remembered the softness of Sharon Raydor pressed up against her, remembered the sound of the woman's laugh, remembered how Sharon had said _we'll figure it out_, and Brenda had believed her. Brenda had allowed herself to entertain the notion, for however brief a time, of what a life with Sharon Raydor might be like. Sharon would never let her get away with leaving her things strewn about the house. She wouldn't yell about it, Brenda was sure, she was just give her that look and then…why was it that a look from Sharon was all it took to whip Brenda into shape, but years of constant nagging from Fritz had had no effect? Why was Brenda so desperate to please Sharon, when she almost never thought of Fritz's feelings?

Why was Brenda still so focused on Sharon? Two nights (and a morning) were hardly the basis for a deep and lasting relationship. Not in the face of everything she and Fritz had been through together.

Right?

···

Sharon was thankful that she and Brenda had only shared one case since their little... fling. Was it officially a fling, now? Two nights (and a morning) hardly seemed to be worthy of the title of "affair", but it certainly hadn't been a one-night stand, and it had hit Sharon harder than she was expecting.

Brenda had clearly made her choice, however. Sharon had seen Agent Howard around the office a few times. He had been kind and helpful, and he had given no indication that he knew Sharon had, at one time, buried her face between his wife's legs. Sharon was grateful for that, at least. Brenda had kept her mouth shut.

It seemed so unfair, somehow, that Brenda had wandered into Sharon's life, and showed her how it could be, how they could be, only to have her leave again, to go straight back into her husband's arms. Sharon hadn't expected Brenda to leave Fritz, not really, but she had hoped, God how she had _hoped_ that Brenda would. That Brenda would see their potential and put it first.

But she hadn't, and so they continued this (very polite) dance, staying out of each other's way whenever possible, and when avoidance was impossible, they found a way to work through it, to pretend they hadn't held each other, naked and shivering and blissful through two of the best nights in recent memory.

···

Brenda parked her car outside Sharon's house, aware of the late hour and her own foolishness. She had promised Sharon she wouldn't do this, that she wouldn't come back until she'd figured herself out. But she didn't know what else to do. She couldn't leave Fritz. He was good and he was kind and he understood her (mostly) and he took care of her and Joel and he loved her and she was terrified of a life without the security he brought her. But she couldn't stay away from Sharon. She couldn't banish the memories of Sharon's body, or her compassion, or her quiet strength. Brenda was drawn to Sharon as a moth to a flame, desperately wanting that which could only destroy her in the end.

She got out of the car and made her way up the sidewalk to Sharon's front door with no particular plan in mind. She knew Sharon probably wouldn't let her in, but she did not have nefarious intentions. She needed someone to talk to about this mess, needed someone who would listen and help her sort through her emotions, needed someone who could help her make the right choice. Sharon had always been that person, even when Brenda didn't want her to be.

···

Sharon jumped when she heard the doorbell ring. There was no one who should be coming to see her so late. Unless it was Brenda, and Sharon prayed that Brenda wouldn't be foolish enough to come back again.

She slipped her blue silk housecoat on over the slip she'd worn to bed, and shuffled to the door, running her fingers through her jumbled curls and wondering absently where her service weapon was. Just in case.

When Sharon opened the door, it was to find Brenda Leigh Johnson, shivering on her front steps.

"Sharon, I-"

"Brenda what on earth are you doing?" Sharon asked, reaching out for Brenda's hand without even thinking, tugging her forward and into the house. "It's the middle of the night."

Brenda smiled wanly as Sharon closed the door behind her, remembering briefly the night Sharon had pressed her up against and made her come twice in a row, a feat that took Fritz months to achieve but that Sharon pulled off without even trying. Sharon didn't linger by the door, however; she cut a path through the house toward the kitchen and the wine, and Brenda followed her, trying to figure out her next move.

Sharon poured and handed Brenda a glass before fixing one for herself, needing to keep her hands busy and off the blonde Deputy Chief who stood in her kitchen looking for all the world like a lost puppy.

"I want you to know I still haven't made a decision," Brenda said, and Sharon tensed all over. Those were not the words she'd hoped to hear.

"Ok," Sharon said, sipping her wine and waiting for Brenda to continue.

"I had another argument with Fritz," Sharon fought the urge to roll her eyes, "And I needed to talk to someone… rational. More rational than me. And you're the most rational person I know."

Sharon smiled sadly. _The most rational person I know._ Somehow that didn't seem like a compliment. But she wasn't going to send Brenda away. However used she might feel in the morning, these few precious moments with Brenda right now were more personal than the hours they'd spent together at work in the last few weeks, and Sharon needed something, anything, to help her get by.

"What did you fight about?" Sharon asked.

"Fritz wants to go back to D.C. He says that since I lost my chance at becoming Chief of Police that my job is probably in danger here, and he knows that I could get any job I want if I go back, and I'll be closer to my parents, and he can get that promotion he passed on last year."

Sharon's heart felt as if it had stopped beating. Brenda was going to leave. Brenda was going to pack up and follow her husband and leave and Sharon would be alone. Again. The way she always seemed to be.

"I see."

Brenda shook her head. "No, you don't. Fritz wants to go, but that's the last thing I want. I love LA. I don't wanna be closer to my parents. I don't wanna find any job I want. I want to stay here."

_With you._ Even though Brenda couldn't bear to speak the words aloud, she hoped that Sharon understood them.

"What did he say?"

"He just sort of gave up, the way he always does. He said we'd stay, if that's what I wanted."

Sharon nodded. "You should stay, if that's what you really want. But you shouldn't keep him here, if that's not what he wants. You should let him follow his own dreams, Brenda. If you want to stay with him, you can't force him to always conform to your expectations."

Brenda burst into tears, and Sharon immediately regretted her words. She put down her drink and pulled Brenda into her arms, shushing her gently as she held her close.

"I don't want to hold him back but I'm just so scared of what will happen to me when he's gone," Brenda gasped between sobs, her face buried into the crook of her neck. It hurt, to hear Brenda talk that way about Fritz, when Sharon knew the prospect of losing her hadn't scared Brenda. But Brenda needed her, and Sharon would be there, because Sharon Raydor never walked away from anyone who needed her.

She kissed Brenda's temple and murmured, "It'll be ok, Brenda. You'll make the right choice."

Brenda lifted her head, staring up at her with teary eyes. "What if I don't?"

"You'll have to live with it, honey, either way." Sharon didn't know why she called Brenda _honey_, she just did. It seemed appropriate, at that moment.

And then because Brenda looked so beautiful, looking up at her, and because it was always Brenda initiating things between them, and because Sharon was tired of letting other people take the lead in her life, she took Brenda's chin in her hand and kissed her squarely.

Brenda melted against her without hesitation, opening her mouth when Sharon dragged her tongue over her lower lip, begging permission to go where she'd already been before. Brenda ran her hands down Sharon's back to rest lightly at her waist, pulling their hips together, saying without words exactly what she wanted.

And Sharon tried to ignore the little voice in her mind that told her this was the only reason Brenda had come over tonight as she led the blonde by the hand from the kitchen to her bedroom.

···

Brenda hadn't come over there for sex (or at least not just for sex) but Sharon's touch made her feel as if everything was going to be alright, as if she could lose herself in the warmth and softness of Sharon Raydor and forget the giant mess she'd made of everyone's life. She allowed Sharon to undress her quickly, dropping her pants and shirt and her underwear to the floor in record time, before Brenda pulled Sharon down on top of her, and they flopped on the bed together.

There was something decadent about stark naked underneath a fully-clothed Sharon Raydor, about the feel of smooth silk against her bare skin, and Brenda arched her back and cried out as Sharon's mouth latched on to her nipple, teeth worrying the tender tip until Brenda thought she might come just from the heat of Sharon's mouth.

Brenda regained herself long enough to slip Sharon's robe off her shoulders, revealing the deep blue silk slip she wore beneath it, her nipples hard through the thin fabric. Brenda cupped her breasts through the silk, feeling the familiar weight of them against her hand, and Sharon sighed above her, her face radiating the joy that Brenda herself felt.

This was right. This was how it should be.

Brenda slid a hand up Sharon's thigh and under the slip, and gasped when she felt no obstruction between her fingertips and Sharon's heat.

Sharon didn't bother explaining, just grinned down impishly at her as Brenda ran her fingers through the dampness there. Brenda pushed two fingers inside her, felt Sharon's walls tensing at the intrusion before she relaxed and welcomed her touch.

Sharon rested her head against Brenda's shoulder, laying kisses on her bare skin, her hand snaking down towards Brenda's own sex. As Sharon's fingers found their way inside Brenda they found themselves in the same position they had been in that first night, desperate for one another, riding each other's hands as a litany of pants and moans issued forth from their lips.

Brenda felt Sharon growing closer and closer to the edge as she rubbed her thumb against the other woman's clit, feeling Sharon's slender hands mimicking the same motion on her own body.

Brenda didn't realize that she was chanting _please please please. _

Sharon did. And Sharon wasn't exactly sure what Brenda needed, but she would give her whatever she could.

They came together, collapsing against one another, breathing their release against sweaty skin, but Sharon wasn't done. She eased her hand out of Brenda, feeling the blond do the same, and then she rolled over, pulling Brenda to lay atop her, between her legs.

She kissed her gently, sticky fingers finding their way back to Brenda's breasts, and Brenda moaned, still shuddering through the last wave of her orgasm. And then Sharon tilted her hips upward so that they met, together, at their centers, and Brenda cried out, louder than before.

_Please please please_

_Yes yes yes_, Sharon thought. Yes she would give Brenda anything she could.

Sharon was thrusting up against Brenda and Brenda was pushing down against her and their tongues were dueling in their mouths and Brenda's fingers were toying with Sharon's nipples and Sharon's nails were digging trails down Brenda's back and it was the closest to happy either of them had felt since that day in Sharon's office.

Sharon's orgasm tore through her this time, her back arching upward, her head thrown back as she cried out, a wordless sound of want and need and maybe even love, though she dared not even think it. Brenda kept moving desperately against her until moments later she followed her into oblivion.

Sharon kept Brenda in place above her with gentle hands, their centers still touching, as the pair of them reveled in the feeling of being complete in each other's arms.

And then Brenda's phone buzzed from the pocket of her pants, a short buzz, indicating a text message.

Brenda pulled herself away from Sharon's warmth, checked her phone.

"I have to go home, Sharon," she said softly.

Sharon couldn't speak. She pulled the covers up around her shoulders and buried her face in the pillow. She somehow managed to keep the tears at bay until she heard the front door close behind Brenda.


	10. Chapter 10

Brenda felt like shit when she got home. She hated herself for leaving Sharon alone, and she hated herself for cheating on Fritz. Again. She hated her own indecisiveness. She hated her own fears. She wanted to scream, but she held it in, put a smile on her face, and went inside to see her husband, whose desperate "can we please not fight anymore?" text had nearly broken her heart. How had this become her life? When had she gotten so far away from the person she wanted to be? Brenda didn't recognize herself any more, and that scared her more than anything.

"Brenda?" Fritz called when she walked in the door, and if anything, her heart sunk deeper in her chest at the sound of his voice. He was tired of fighting. He was tired of her leaving. And she couldn't bring herself to give him what he needed.

"Honey?" she answered, toeing off her shoes as he walked into the kitchen.

He hugged her, grateful she was back. At least she'd done that much for him. She had washed her hands before she left Sharon's, but she couldn't help wondering if he could tell what she'd been doing. If he knew, somehow, that Brenda had found someone else.

"Where have you been?" he asked as he released her.

"I went to Captain Raydor's," she answered. She knew she would have lie to him, at least a little bit, but she wanted to keep the lies to a minimum.

Fritz raised an eyebrow at her. "You two have become pretty good friends, haven't you?"

Brenda nodded, and he smiled back at her.

"That's good. I'm glad you've got a friend. And I like Captain Raydor. She's got a good head on her shoulders."

Brenda fought the urge to cry again. Sharon did have a good head on her shoulders. She knew better than to go and get caught up in Brenda's mess, but Brenda had dragged her into it anyway.

"I'm really tired, Fritzi. Can we just go to bed?"

Fritz nodded, and they went back to their bedroom together.

···

Two weeks passed, and Brenda didn't see Sharon at all. She had a sneaking suspicion that Sharon was avoiding her on purpose, but she had no proof. Brenda didn't seek her out; she was afraid of what the Captain might say to her. She was afraid that she deserved all the anger Sharon no doubt felt towards her. Sharon had trusted Brenda with the deepest parts of herself, and Brenda had betrayed that trust. And she knew it.

···

Sharon had been trying to keep herself the hell away from Brenda Leigh Johnson, but as she heard the shots ring out and felt the pain ripping through her stomach, she couldn't help but wish that Brenda was there to hold her hand.

···

"CHIEF!" Flynn yelled, running into the murder room as quickly as he could, out of breath and ashen-faced.

"Lieutenant? What on earth? Are you all right?"

Flynn shook his head, gasping slightly. "It's Captain Raydor, Chief. She's been shot."

Brenda faltered for a moment, reaching out to the desk behind her for support, feeling as if her heart had been ripped out of her chest.

_Sharon._

_God, please, not Sharon._

_Not Sharon._

"Sharon's people have him in custody," he said, and Brenda was so devastated she didn't notice the use of Sharon's first name. "She's at Cedars; I'm going there now."

"I'm going with you," Brenda said, and Flynn just nodded. They left as quickly as they could, lights flashing all the way to the hospital.

And all Brenda could think as they flew through the streets was that this was somehow her fault, and if Sharon made it, she would never let her go again.

···

When they arrived, they were shuffled off into a waiting room, and left alone. They had used their badges to wheedle some information out of a nurse; Sharon had been shot twice in the stomach, she'd been torn up pretty badly, it would be awhile before she was out of surgery, no the nurse couldn't speculate on her chances.

Brenda sat in one of the nondescript plastic chairs, trying her best not to cry. She had hurt Sharon so badly, had used her and left her and never told her how much she meant to her, and now Sharon was fighting for her life. Brenda wasn't sure she could go on if she lost her now. Sharon owned Brenda, heart and soul, even if Brenda had been too selfish to admit it, and she couldn't picture her life without her Captain Raydor.

"It's going to be ok, Chief. Sharon's a fighter," Flynn told her quietly, and Brenda realized she'd been holding his hand since they'd sat down.

"God I hope you're right," she said softly. He looked at her curiously, but he said nothing. He continued to hold her hand, as always a quiet source of strength for his blonde Chief.

A girl with long auburn hair and big dark eyes came rushing into the room, and Andy stood up to catch her as she flew into his arms.

"Uncle Andy!" she cried, burying her head in his shoulder, clutching him closer.

He held her tight, running his hand over her hair. "Hey, Chloe," he said softly, and Brenda looked up at the girl, wishing she wasn't meeting Sharon's daughter for the first time in a hospital waiting room.

Andy led the girl to a chair, and she sat down with a sigh, running a tired hand over her face. She had yet to look at Brenda.

"How did you get here so fast?" Andy asked her, sitting down between Chloe and the Chief.

"I came home for the weekend," she said with a sad little smile. "I wasn't supposed to come until tomorrow, but I came home last night, to surprise her." The girl seemed to have inherited her mother's ability to compartmentalize, keeping a calm face after her initial outburst.

"Have you talked to your sister?" Andy asked her, and Brenda found herself wondering for the first time how it was that Andy Flynn knew so much about Sharon's life, and why it was that Sharon's daughter called him "Uncle Andy".

Chloe nodded. "She's trying to get a flight right now. She said she'd call when she knew what time she'd be getting in."

"That's good."

Chloe sat in silence for a long time. Andy had his arm slung around the back of her chair, a gesture of easy familiarity that Brenda envied. She knew she had no connection to Sharon's children, no right to resent Andy for his relationship with the girls. But she did. She wished she would have given Sharon what she needed, wished that her daydreams about their life together had been a reality, wished that it was her offering comfort to Sharon's daughter.

"Has anyone called Eliza?" Chloe asked suddenly, and Andy sat up straighter, turning to face her and blocking Brenda's view of the girl.

"No," he said sharply, "and we're not going to."

"Uncle Andy," she said, her tone of disapproval so similar to her mother's that Brenda felt the tears threatening her again. "She deserves to know. And she'll kill us when she finds out that this happened and no one told her."

"And when your mother wakes up and finds her here, she'll kill you. So the question is who would you rather have pissed off at you- your mother or Eliza?"

Chloe shook her head, rising out of her chair and pulling her cell phone out of the pocket of her jeans. "I'm calling her," she said, dialing the phone over Flynn's objections, "because she deserves to be told."

Chloe wandered around the room, phone pressed to her ear, until Eliza answered the phone.

"Eliza, it's Chloe…No, no I'm fine… It's mom," her voice wavered faintly, but she quickly reined it in. "She's been shot." There was a long pause here, as Chloe listened to the woman on the other end of the phone, and then she spoke again. "She's at Cedars, we don't know how long she'll be in surgery…Uncle Andy's here... ok, see you soon." She hung up, and Flynn sighed.

···

Brenda wasn't sure how much time had passed. Fritz kept trying to call her, so she turned the ringer off on her phone. She couldn't bring herself to turn her cell off entirely, in case someone called with news about the man who'd shot Sharon, but she also couldn't bring herself to talk to Fritz.

And Flynn hadn't said a word and Chloe hadn't even noticed that Brenda was in the room.

And that was when a woman Brenda had never seen before breezed into the room. She was tall and slim, wearing a chic dress, her hair cut short in that fashionable style Brenda knew she'd never be able to pull off herself. The woman was beautiful, and for some reason this made Brenda sad.

"Chloe," the woman said softly, and Chloe rose out of her chair, wrapping her arms around the woman.

"God, Eliza, I'm so glad you're here," the girl said.

Brenda felt as if she didn't belong here, with the people who knew Sharon and cared about her. She felt as if she didn't deserve to be counted among them.

"Me too, kid," Eliza said as Chloe pulled away and dropped back into her chair.

"Andy," Eliza said politely, nodding to Flynn.

"El," he answered with his own nod. "You look good."

"You look exhausted."

"Nice to see you, too," he snorted, and Eliza smiled. She had a beautiful smile.

"And who's this?" Eliza asked, turning to Brenda. For a moment, Brenda forgot to speak. She prayed that she wouldn't have to explain to this stranger what exactly she was doing there.

"Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson," she said quickly, rising and extending her hand. Eliza took it, smiling at her oddly.

"I guess you work with Sharon?" Eliza asked, and Brenda nodded, feeling awkward now that she was standing. Did she sit back down? Did she offer a seat to Eliza? She shoved her hands into her pockets, and was immediately reminded of Sharon, who did that all the time without even noticing it. Brenda had always wanted to tease Sharon about it, but she'd never had the chance.

"How's our girl doing?" Eliza asked, leaning up against the wall, and Brenda swiftly sat back down as Flynn outlined the situation.

Eliza nodded, and then looked around again, as if she was trying to find something she'd misplaced.

"Where's Sharon's girlfriend?"

Three pairs of eyes turned to her sharply, with three different reasons. Chloe was confused, Flynn was pissed that Eliza had just outed Sharon in front of the Chief, and Brenda was praying that Sharon hadn't told the woman her name.

"She doesn't have a girlfriend," Chloe said slowly.

Eliza seemed thrown by the girl's words. "We talked a few weeks ago, and she told me she was seeing someone. She didn't tell you guys?"

Three heads shook back and forth Eliza shrugged. "Guess it didn't take, then."

They remained in silence for a while, Brenda worrying the hem of her shirt between her fingers as the silence became more and more uncomfortable. Once again, Eliza broke in.

"Well, I need some coffee. Deputy Chief Johnson, would you like to come with me?"

Once again, three very confused pairs of eyes landed on the dark haired woman leaning against the wall.

"Me?" Brenda fairly squeaked.

"What? I don't want to go by myself, and Chloe should stay here in case there's any news, and if Andy goes with me he'll spend the whole time trying to convince me I should leave and I have no intention of doing that. So what do you say? Come with me?"

Brenda stared at her for a moment, but eventually rose to her feet.

"Would you like anything?" she asked with a glance at Chloe and Flynn, but they both shook their heads.

"Away we go!" Eliza said cheerily, and she led Brenda out of the room with a stern hand on her elbow.

They didn't speak until they reached the small cafeteria, and poured two strong cups of coffee. Eliza paid for Brenda's, and then led her to a table.

"Let's sit and talk for a while, shall we?" she said in a tone that left no room for discussion, so Brenda merely nodded and sat down across from her.

"So you're Sharon's girlfriend, aren't you?" Eliza asked nonchalantly, and Brenda almost choked on her coffee.

"Oh, don't act so surprised. It was pretty easy to figure out. You should have seen your face when I walked in there." Eliza smiled.

"I'm not her girlfriend," Brenda said defensively after a moment, and Eliza actually laughed at that.

"Oh?"

Brenda blushed. "I wouldn't say that I'm her girlfriend," she amended, and Eliza nodded.

"In that phase where you can't quite put a name to things?" she said, and Brenda just stared down at her coffee.

Eliza seemed perfectly comfortable to wait until Brenda broke the silence , and as much as Brenda resented herself for it, it didn't take long.

"I do care about her. A lot. I'd do anything for her," Brenda said quietly, and Eliza considered her with dark eyes for a long moment before she reached out and lifted Brenda's left hand, running her finger over Brenda's wedding ring, just as Sharon had done what seemed like years ago.

"Anything but leave your husband?" Eliza asked softly.

Brenda didn't know what to say to that.

"Listen, Brenda, I know you think you care about Sharon, but as long as that ring is on your finger, all you're doing is hurting her." Eliza caught her gaze, piercing eyes refusing to let Brenda look anywhere but at the beautiful woman sitting across the table from her. "Sharon's been hurt enough, don't you think? If she meant anything to you, you wouldn't be doing this to her."

"And what about you? What have you done to her? Lieutenant Flynn said Sharon would be pissed if she woke up and you were here."

Eliza smiled at her sadly, letting her hand drop back onto the table.

"I'm just going to stay until I know Sharon's ok. I know she doesn't want to see me. I assume it's pretty obvious we were together, once?"

Brenda nodded, and Eliza continued. "We were together for a long time. I think we were genuinely happy, for a while. And I love the girls like they were my own. But you're right; I did hurt her, because I left. Everyone leaves Sharon, eventually. Jack- that's her ex- husband," she added when she saw the momentary confusion on Brenda's face, "Andy, me, you. She deserves better than that."

Brenda stared at Eliza, wondering how this woman knew her own heart so well, but the only word that came out of her mouth was, "Andy?"

Eliza laughed. "You didn't know about that, either, did you? They were partners when Jack left. Andy helped her take care of the girls. Emma was a toddler, and Chloe was just a baby. They made a nice couple, but then Sharon transferred to Internal Affairs and suddenly Andy wouldn't talk to her anymore. That's when I found her. She was the best thing that ever happened to me," Eliza added softly, and Brenda felt the tears begin to trickle down her cheeks.

"She's the best thing that ever happened to me, too," Brenda said softly, and Eliza smiled.

"Then make sure she knows that, ok?" Brenda nodded, and Eliza rose. "We should get back before they start wonder if we killed each other."

···

Hours passed before a tired-looking doctor came back to tell them that Sharon was out of surgery, that she was going to be fine, but that she wouldn't wake up for several more hours.

Eliza rose, and hugged Chloe one more time. "I'll call you tomorrow, to see how she's doing. Take care, baby," she said, and kissed Chloe's cheek as they pulled apart.

"Andy," she said with another nod that he returned, not rising out of his chair.

"Chief Johnson," she said, extending her hand. Brenda took it. "It was nice to meet you. I hope you get everything worked out."

And with that, she turned on one stiletto heel and walked out the door, just like she said she would.

"Now that we know she's going to be ok, I'm going to go back and check in with everyone," Andy said. "I'll call you if I hear anything, Chief."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Brenda said, wishing she wasn't left alone with Sharon's daughter, but there was no way she was leaving, especially not after her earlier conversation with Eliza. She was going to be there when Sharon woke up, whether Sharon wanted her to be or not.

···

Chloe and Brenda had talked quietly for a while in Sharon's room, sitting on the hard hospital chairs. Brenda learned that Chloe was a history major, and that she wanted to teach when she graduated, and that she liked country music, even if she'd never admit it to her mother, and that she was dating a boy named Kevin, and that her favorite color was yellow. And then Chloe had fallen asleep, and Brenda had moved her chair close enough to Sharon's bed to hold her hand.

She seemed so small, lying there in that bed, her face deathly pale and the IV sticking out of the back of her hand, but Brenda could feel the steady thrum of her blood through her veins, and when she leaned forward and rested her head next to Sharon's on the pillow, she fancied she could hear the other woman's heart beat.

···

When Sharon woke up, her first thought was that everything hurt. Her stomach especially, but her whole body felt as if she'd been hit by a truck. She was grateful, though, because she could feel, and after a quick test she realized she could move her fingers and toes.

And then Sharon noticed the feel of another hand wrapped around her own.

It took an absurd amount of effort to life her eyelids, but she did, and turned her head slowly to find herself face-to-face with Brenda Leigh Johnson.

"Hey," Sharon croaked, and Brenda's eyes flew open.

"Sharon," she cried softly, mindful of Chloe sleeping curled up on the chair in the corner. She couldn't stop herself; she leaned forward and kissed one very confused Sharon Raydor right on the lips.

"What are you doing here?" Sharon asked.

"I'm making a choice, Sharon," Brenda told her. "It's you. It's always you. And I'll always be here for you, if you'll let me."

Sharon smiled, and Brenda kissed her again. There was so much more Sharon needed to say to her, but she was so tired, and it was a struggle to say anything at all.

"Chloe's here, and Emma will be here in a few hours," Brenda said, leaning back in her chair, still holding Sharon's hand.

That was when Sharon realized Brenda had taken off her wedding ring.


	11. Chapter 11

The night passed in a haze of images and sounds for Sharon. Hands squeezing her own, voices whispering, faces drifting past- first Chloe, then Emma, then Brenda, murmuring quietly in her ear- pain drifting through her whole body at times, weightlessness at others, doctors, nurses, pills, needles, jumbled thoughts, sleep…

When Sharon finally woke up, the shades on the window were drawn against the night, and Emma was curled up in a chair by Sharon's bed, auburn hair tousled and falling all over her face. Sharon itched to brush it away, but her arms felt like lead. Brenda was gone, and Sharon was relieved. She had so much she needed to say to the blonde, but the words would not be easy, and in truth she dreaded having to voice them at all. She knew she must, however, because this could not go on. They could not continue as they had.

"Hey," Emma said sleepily, brown eyes blinking owlishly at her mother, who smiled back.

"Hey, baby," Sharon answered softly, finding herself suddenly parched. Emma reached out and lifted a small glass of water without having to be asked, and helped Sharon drink with a gentle hand behind her head.

"Chloe went home to shower, and Brenda went to the police station, but she said she'll be back as soon as she can."

Sharon nodded, the relieved feeling vanishing as quickly as it had come. It seemed she was only offered a short respite before she had to break Brenda's heart.

"How are you feeling?" Emma asked, and Sharon grimaced.

"Like hell, but I'll live."

"Damn straight you will," Emma snorted, and Sharon lifted a heavy arm, finding her daughter's hand and holding on tight.

"Don't ever do this to me again, ok?" Emma said, tears at the corners of her proud eyes. "Not ever."

"I promise," Sharon told her, and Emma sighed.

They remained in silence for quite sometime. Sharon often thought that Emma was too much like her mother; proud and stubborn, hesitant to voice her emotions, always pretending to be strong, even when she wasn't.

She didn't have long to dwell on it, however, because a blonde head poked through the door all too soon.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," Brenda said shyly, and Emma visibly brightened. Sharon groaned inwardly, wondering just how much time it had taken Brenda to charm her normally reserved daughter.

"Of course not! Why don't you come on in, and I'll go get some coffee?" Emma said, rising before her mother could object. She leaned over to kiss Sharon on the cheek, and whispered in her ear, "I like this one. Keep her around," before disappearing through the door, leaving one positively beaming Brenda Leigh Johnson alone in the hospital room with Sharon.

"How are you feeling?" Brenda asked, rushing to sit in the chair Emma had just vacated, and Sharon wondered for a moment how many times she was going to be asked that very same question over the next few weeks.

"I'm fine, Brenda. We need to talk," she said, struggling to sit up before Brenda nudged her back down with a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Doctor said you should take it easy," Brenda chided, and Sharon bristled.

"You're not wearing your ring," she said before she could stop herself, and Brenda smiled, biting her lip. "I hope you kept it."

_God damn it,_ she thought. She hadn't meant to be quite this blunt, or this cold, but she wasn't sure she could pull it off any other way.

"Wha- Sharon?" Brenda looked devastated, wringing her hands in her lap.

"What I meant is… no, fuck it, that's what I meant. You can't leave Fritz for me. You can't honestly think that this little display of yours is genuine. You're not here because you care about me, Brenda. You're here because you're worried about yourself, and you're trying to keep me around because I make you comfortable. If you really wanted me, you would have left Fritz weeks ago."

It was a lot to say all at once, and Sharon desperately wanted another drink of water, but her hands were shaking, and she didn't trust herself to reach out for the glass.

Brenda looked torn between breaking down in tears and throwing the plastic water pitcher across the room in frustration.

"Sharon," she said slowly, "I'm here because almost losing you yesterday made me realize-"

"Exactly! Almost losing me. Brenda, you lost me two weeks ago. You lost me when, after everything I told you, you still came back to my bed with that ring on your finger. If you'd taken it off two weeks ago, it would have meant something. This, this means nothing."

Brenda's lower lip was shaking, but still she did not cry.

"What do you want from me, Sharon? You want me to beg?"

"It won't do you any good. I want you to go."

There was a long moment of silence before Brenda gathered up her obnoxiously large purse and stormed away.

As the tears began to pour down Sharon's face, it occurred to her that for the first time in a long time, she'd left someone instead of the other way around. But no matter how she tried to look at it, Brenda was still walking out the door, and she was still left all alone.

Her tears had dried by the time Emma came back.

···

Brenda sat in her car, parked in the driveway, trying to slide her ring back onto a shaking finger. She hadn't taken the time to talk to Fritz yet; she could walk back into that house and pretend like the last few hours hadn't happened. Like she hadn't thrown herself at Sharon's feet only to be rejected in a stunning display of heartlessness she hadn't thought Sharon capable of. Not Sharon, who had softly stroked her hair and whispered, "We'll figure it out," as if she believed it. Brenda thought she _had_ figured it out. Evidently not.

_Pull yourself together, _she thought angrily, wiping at the trails left by the tears that had tracked down her face the whole way home from the hospital.

She took a deep, steadying breath, willing herself to stop shaking, and got out of the car.

Fritz was on her the moment she walked through the door.

"How is she?" he asked, all tender concern. Brenda hadn't even told him about Sharon; someone else must have filled him in. Probably Flynn.

Brenda opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a choked sob.

He wrapped his arms around her, and she buried her head in his shoulder, crying for her broken heart, crying for her foolishness in thinking she could just throw this man away for Sharon. Sharon, who didn't care about her. Sharon, who didn't love her.

She cried all the harder as she realized, for the first time, that she _loved_ Sharon. Loved her kind heart, her constant thoughtfulness, her face, her voice, her arms around Brenda as she slept, her face next to Brenda's when she woke, her words always echoing in Brenda's ears.

She cried because it had taken losing Sharon, well and truly losing her, to make her realize what she'd had all along. And Fritz was there, holding her close.

···

The next three months passed slowly for Sharon. After a week she sent both her girls back to their respective colleges, insisting that she wasn't an invalid, that they needed to get back to their lives. Truth was, she needed some time away from people. She hadn't recognized herself in the weeks before the shooting, hadn't recognized that woman who threw all her principles away on some silly fling with a married woman. She hadn't recognized the Sharon Raydor who became suddenly pliant every time Brenda Leigh batted her dark eyelashes.

Eliza came by sometimes, to help with little things around the house and ease her boredom. They saw more of each other during the months of Sharon's recovery than they had in several years before, and it was oddly comforting to have Eliza in her home again. Neither of them entertained the notion of restarting their previous relationship, and somehow that made being around one another easier. Without the pressure of being lovers, they had somehow become friends, and Sharon was in dire need of friends.

It was during her exile that Sharon realized just how much she missed the company of certain friends in particular. She missed Andy, the way he was when they actually got along with one another. She had missed Eliza, before this recent development. She missed her girls, even if she had sent them away. And most of all she missed Brenda.

The first night Sharon had slept alone in her own bed, she cried herself to sleep. Cried for a bed that was too big for one person, cried for brown eyes brimming with tears as Sharon said the most hateful words that had ever come out of her mouth, cried for the loss of love that had, however briefly, brightened her life.

And oh yes, she loved Brenda. She loved her smile, and her mind, and her heart. She loved the pouty face Brenda made when roused from sleep. She loved how Brenda turned to mush when there was a cat anywhere in the vicinity.

But she had sent Brenda away, because she had felt more than a little manipulated, and because she worried, as she always did, that if Brenda didn't leave now, the leaving later would be worse.

And now, her stomach still a little sore and her shoulders tight with anxiety, Sharon made her way through the halls of the new police headquarters toward Chief Pope's office.

He smiled at her as he opened the door, and she brushed past him, settling in the chair across from his desk.

"Captain Raydor, you're looking well," he told her politely as he sat behind his desk.

"I feel well, Chief, thank you," she answered.

"So, you've passed your psych evaluation, and you've re-qualified for your weapon, so you're all ready to go," he was watching her carefully as though looking for something specific, but Sharon had no idea what it could be, so she simply nodded. "We'll try to keep you on light duty for the next few weeks, just until you get settled in," he continued.

"I'm happy to be back, light duty or not," she told him, and he nodded.

A look of something like concern or worry crossed Pope's face as he said, "A delicate case has come up, however, and I feel you're the best person for the job."

Sharon's heart sunk in her chest as she took the file he handed her. She knew, somehow, exactly what he was going to say before he said it.

"A suspect has filed charges against Chief Johnson for the excessive use of force. So if you'll just take a look at the information there, and then speak with Chief Johnson, I'm sure we'll get this wrapped up by the end of the day!" he said cheerily, rising and indicating that she do the same.

As she left Chief Pope's office, Sharon's mind was a chaotic mess of thoughts. It would be wonderful, absolutely _wonderful _to see Brenda again, except Sharon was fairly certain that Brenda hated her completely now. And why shouldn't she? Brenda had reached out and Sharon had destroyed her, as if nothing Brenda had done mattered. And sure, Sharon was honest enough with herself now to admit that she loved the Deputy Chief, but what fool would ever go back to someone who had treated them so roughly?

Sharon willed herself to calm down. She would do her job. She would be professional. She would not cry in front of Chief Johnson.

···

Brenda had heard through her squad that Sharon Raydor was back at work, and she had spent the whole morning in a clumsy haze, bouncing off of people and furniture as she passed through her routine, thinking only of soft green eyes and long dark hair and whispered words of comfort. She had just gotten to a point of stability in her life, just reached an understanding of her life without Sharon Raydor, when _that woman_ came waltzing back. And with these charges against her, Brenda knew it was only a matter of time before she heard the familiar click of Sharon's heels on the floor behind her. In fact, she'd been looking over her shoulder for the brunette all day. She tried to ignore the stab of disappointment she felt every time she looked and did not find her.

She was standing in the kitchenette, pouring herself a cup of coffee when Sharon finally appeared. Like a vision in a pinstriped suit she floated into the room and leaned up against the far wall, green eyes watching Brenda carefully.

Brenda was reminded of the first time Sharon had appeared like that, in this very room. How Sharon had reached out to her, offering her the closeness of a body who understood, without words, what Brenda was feeling. How Sharon had swallowed her pride to give Brenda a place to stay, and how royally Brenda had screwed her for that offering. She had realized in the last few months how wrong she'd been, in stringing Sharon along, and she wished for all the world that she could go back to that night, two weeks before the shooting, and tell Sharon everything she felt now.

She tried desperately to cling to the anger that had filled her after leaving the hospital that day, but as Sharon stepped into the room, it became harder and harder to remember the bad things. The good things, the good times, the quiet words and gentle touches and long comfortable silences came washing back over Brenda, and she wondered what it was about Sharon Raydor that made her cry, all the time.

"Brenda," Sharon said softly, the word a prayer, a benediction, a confession.

Brenda looked up into her eyes and saw the brokenness of her own heart reflected back at her, and she couldn't stop herself from flying into Sharon's arms.

Brenda was normally not this affectionate; before Sharon, Brenda had never been the type to throw herself at another person without thinking. But then Sharon walked into her life, and Brenda found herself the soul of spontaneity, always desperate to be touching whatever part of her Captain was closest.

It seemed a miracle, somehow, that Sharon was hugging her back. Hadn't Sharon been angry at her? Hadn't she been angry at Sharon? Brenda honestly couldn't remember anymore. Sharon was back, and Sharon was here, and Sharon was holding her, and she thought somehow, maybe, they were going to be ok.

"Will you ever forgive me for what I said?" Sharon asked as Brenda buried her face in the crook of her neck.

Brenda laughed, smearing tears across the lapels of Sharon's jacket. "Are you serious?" she asked. "I was the one who acted like an idiot." She looked up at Sharon, knowing the words would probably come out wrong, but needing to say them anyway. "I wanted you, Sharon, so much, and I was trying to get what I wanted. I didn't think about what I'd done to you, or how badly it must have hurt you when I left that day. I'm the one who needs to be forgiven."

Sharon smiled and kissed her temple quickly before stepping away. Brenda opened her mouth but Sharon spoke first. "Not here," she said quietly. She smiled for a moment longer, before the look of hurt Brenda recognized so well overtook her face. She reached out, and lifted Brenda's left hand, running her finger over the ring.

"Sharon, I-"

"Don't apologize, Brenda," she said, sounding tired. "Please don't apologize."

"I wasn't gonna apologize, I was gonna explain," Brenda said, and Sharon bristled briefly before backing down.

"If I couldn't have you, I didn't see any point in breaking Fritz's heart, too. And he's been good to me these last few months, without you."

"He's a good man," Sharon said hollowly.

"And if ever thought for a moment that you would have me, I would leave him. Don't you understand, Sharon? I would do anything for you. I didn't mean that before, not really, but I do now."

Sharon smiled at her sadly. "Can we talk about this later?" she asked, squeezing Brenda's hand before letting it go.

"Of course."

Brenda liked the sound of _later_. _Later _sounded like a chance to make things right.


	12. Chapter 12

_She wasn't hard to talk to  
>Looked like she had nowhere to go<br>So I got her a pass  
>So she could get in and see the show<br>I sat her down right next to me  
>And I got her a beer<br>While I mixed that sound on the stage  
>So the band could hear<br>The more I watched her watch them play  
>The less I thought of to say<br>And when they walked off stage  
>The drummer slipped that girl away<br>-Jackson Browne, "Rosie"_

Pope was right, the case was wrapped up quickly. Brenda hadn't so much as touched the suspect, who was merely stalling for time as he tried to come up with the best lie to get him out of trouble. By the end of the day, Brenda had drawn a confession out of him, and it was, on all counts, a good day.

Particularly for Brenda and Sharon. The torrents of words, the tears, they would all come later. They found themselves in an odd limbo, all past actions forgiven, all current troubles ignored for the moment. They chatted all day long, even after Sharon went back to her office. They traded little messages over their cells, they ate lunch together (on the phone, in their separate offices). They made each other laugh. It was easy, somehow, to be part of one another's lives again, though neither knew how long this respite would last.

It was getting late and Brenda needed to go home, but she wanted to see Sharon first. She fired off a quick text.

_You still here?_

After a moment she got her answer.

_In my office. Come see me before you leave. _

Brenda warmed all over at that. She wandered down to the FID offices as if walking on a cloud. They were going to be all right. They really were. She had decided to tell Fritz everything, as soon as she got home, regardless of what Sharon had to say. Even if Sharon thought there was no way they could have a personal relationship- an idea that chilled Brenda to her core- it wasn't fair to keep Fritz hanging on. Brenda loved someone else. He deserved to be told now, not later on. He deserved the chance to leave with some dignity, to follow his dreams and no longer find himself tethered to Brenda. She had held him back long enough.

Sharon was leaning against her window, staring out into the night, her jacket discarded on the chair behind her desk. Brenda found herself grateful that Sharon's office didn't feature the same glass walls as her own. She locked the door behind her, and Sharon threw a welcoming smile over her shoulder, though she didn't move.

"Hey," Brenda said softly, coming up behind her, wrapping her arms around Sharon's thin waist and kissing the side of her neck. Brenda couldn't hold back with Sharon, nor did she want to. She wanted Sharon, more than anything else.

"Hey," Sharon answered, sliding her hands over Brenda's. She gave a small gasp as she found Brenda's left hand ring-less.

"Brenda?" she breathed, a question, a hope.

"I know I don't deserve you, Sharon, but Fritz doesn't deserve to stay married to someone who doesn't love him. Whether you want to be with me or not, I'm not going to keep holding onto him."

She felt Sharon shiver in her arms, and then the brunette turned her head, catching Brenda's lips with her own.

It felt so good to kiss Sharon again, after all this time. So good to hold her again. So good to know that, at least for now, Brenda was right where she needed to be.

"Of course I want to be with you," Sharon murmured, her lips brushing Brenda's as she spoke.

Brenda laughed out loud, kissing Sharon harder, trying to tell her somehow just how happy she was in this moment.

The kiss grew more heated as their tongues tangled, and Brenda's fingers found their way to the buttons of Sharon's white shirt. Sharon moaned even before Brenda reached her skin, melting under her touch.

Brenda eased the shirt off of Sharon, throwing it in the general direction of the desk, laying kisses across Sharon's shoulders and on her rose tattoo. Kissing that small burst of color on Sharon's back was one of Brenda's favorite distractions, and she couldn't help but wish that she could do it every day from now on.

One of Brenda's hands slipped up to grasp a full breast, the other sliding down the front of Sharon's trousers, finding the places Brenda knew so well.

Sharon sighed and leaned her head back against Brenda's shoulder, her hands gripping the window sill, her body smooth and pliant under Brenda's knowing hands.

She let out a whimper as Brenda's fingers slipped through her folds and then up inside her, bucking her hips against the welcome intrusion. Brenda moaned at the feel of Sharon in her hand again, warm and wet and familiar, like coming home.

"I've got you, baby," Brenda murmured against her neck as Sharon began to shudder underneath her. She had no idea where "baby" had come from; the word had just come out of her mouth, and Sharon hadn't objected. It was nice to think that maybe Sharon was her baby, maybe Sharon belonged to her. Maybe she belonged to Sharon.

Her thumb rubbed circles around Sharon's clit as her fingers thrust in and out, her other hand busy teasing Sharon's nipples, and these little noise kept escaping Sharon as she moved, and Brenda felt better than she had in a long time. Maybe ever.

Sharon cried out as Brenda hit that spot inside her, over and over, until her whole body was shaking with her orgasm, and Brenda kissed her neck, moving her fingers gently until Sharon was spent.

Brenda turned them gently, sliding down the wall so that she sat in the floor with a half-naked Sharon Raydor tucked between her legs.

Sharon's fingers were drawing lazy patterns on Brenda's legs as she brought her breathing back under control, and Brenda smiled against her hair.

"You never did tell me the story about your tattoo," Brenda said, kissing the rose again.

Sharon tensed for a moment, fighting with herself, before she relaxed. She began to speak, her words as careful and precise as always.

"I was very young when I got married," she said, wrapping her arms around herself. "And I used to have red hair, like the girls. My husband used to call me Rosie. He played the guitar and he always used to sing that song to me." She hesitated a moment before she began to sing in a soft, smoky alto that left Brenda breathless,

"_Rosie you're alright,  
>you wear my ring,<br>when you hold me tight,  
>Rosie that's my thing,<br>when you turn out the light,  
>I got to hand it to me,<br>looks like it's me and you again tonight,  
>Rosie."<em>

She fell silent, and Brenda felt a tear drop from Sharon's eye onto her hands, which had moved up to tangle with Sharon's as she sang.

"Your hair's not red any more," Brenda prodded gently, wanting to know as much about Sharon as the woman could tell her.

Sharon shook her head. "At first I dyed it because it reminded me too much of him, and then it just became a habit."

Brenda kissed the crown of her head. "I'd like you if you had no hair at all."

Sharon snorted, and turned around, wrapping her arms around Brenda's neck and pulling them down to the floor, together.

···

They agreed that Brenda would go home as she'd originally planned, and speak with Fritz. They would try not to have any repeat performances at work. They would be professional, and they would move slowly. Although letting Brenda fuck her in her office on her first day back at work didn't seem very slow to Brenda.

When Brenda got home, however, she did not find Fritz. She found a note taped to the fridge.

_Brenda.  
>Tried to call you, you didn't answer.<br>I've got a big case at work and will be undercover for the next few days.  
>Will call if I can.<br>Love you.  
>Fritz<em>


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I love all of you for sticking with me for this long. I present to you an (almost entirely) angst-free chapter. Apologies for any glaring mistakes, this was done very quickly. xoxo**

**···**

Fritz was gone, and Brenda was only slightly ashamed of how relieved she felt at having dodged that particular bullet. She had a moment to breathe, to pull herself together, and she was incredibly grateful for it. She knew what she wanted now, quite possibly for the first time in her life. At least when it came to personal matters. She'd never quite known what she wanted from Fritz, or even if he was the person she wanted it from. Her mind drifted back to their early days together, when yet another cancelled date had almost ended their relationship before it had begun. She very nearly let him walk out the door, having declared them "just friends", before she'd pulled him back in her arms for a kiss. It seemed funny, all these years later, how that one small moment had changed her life. She was married to him now, they had a home and a cat and a joint checking account, because she had decided to kiss him. She couldn't remember now exactly why she'd done it. She cared for him, certainly, and it had been a relief to find at least one friendly face in LA, but had she felt for him then what she felt for Sharon now? Six years from now, if she and Sharon were still together, would she find herself bored and lonesome and undeniably attracted to someone else?

This was where her thought process completely derailed, however, as she began to think about what a long-term relationship with Sharon might actually be like. What would it feel like, six years from now, to still be waking up face-to-face with Sharon, morning breath and bed head and all? It sent a thrill through her just to imagine it, a thrill she couldn't remember having ever felt before. She'd felt trepidation when Fritz first suggested they move in together, and now she wanted nothing more than to be close enough to touch Sharon Raydor every day for the rest of her life.

···

Sharon's home seemed less empty tonight, somehow. She couldn't believe how well the day had gone. She'd expected an unmitigated disaster, and had been blessed with a miracle- a second chance. She knew what she'd done all those months ago, sending Brenda away without so much as a "thank you for being there when I woke up after some maniac shot me". She knew it was cruel, but at the time she genuinely believed she was protecting her heart from a greater tragedy.

Now, her heart was lighter than it had been years, but through the relief of knowing that she and Brenda had a chance together, her doubts continued to gnaw at the back of her mind. Everything had happened so quickly- even if it had been several months since that first fateful night- and Sharon had always believed that a relationship that requires either party to ignore their own values was no relationship at all. And she had found herself compromising for Brenda.

But Brenda was compromising for her, too. Brenda was risking everything- her reputation, her career, throwing away her marriage- for a chance to be with Sharon. And that had to count for something.

Brenda had called briefly, informing her that Fritz would be gone for the next few days, and together they decided that she would keep her ring on, at least at work, until he got back. News travels fast, particularly within the LAPD, and the last thing either of them wanted was for Fritz to find out Brenda's decision second-hand. They continued to talk, far longer than Sharon had anticipated, and she found that they longer they tried, the easier it was for them to converse each other. It shouldn't have surprised her as much as it did, for after all they were quite similar. They were strong women, driven by their belief in doing the right thing, neither easily distracted from what they wanted. And they wanted each other, and it seemed nothing would stand in their way.

Not even Sharon's doubts.

···

The first day Fritz was gone, Sharon and Brenda kept a polite distance at work, and ate a quiet meal out together before going their separate ways. It seemed oddly backwards to Brenda, to go from fucking Sharon in the office to dating her, and kissing her good night at her front doorstep, but there was something comforting about the new ground upon which they were standing. They no longer felt the need to race the clock, to make the most of every second they had. They had the time to enjoy each other, without fear. That was more than enough for both of them, for now.

On the second day, Brenda drove to Sharon's for dinner.

···

Sharon marveled, as she maneuvered through her kitchen, stirring pots and flinging spices and singing along to the radio, at how quickly they had fallen into a sort of pattern. There had been no doubt that they would eat dinner together tonight, and after Sharon had announced that she was cooking, Brenda insisted on doing her version of cooking- ordering takeout- the next night. It seemed they would be spending every evening together, though they hadn't had a conversation about the matter. It just seemed natural. And Sharon loved it.

She heard the door open, and she smiled to herself as she listened to the sound of Brenda kicking off her shoes, and promptly tripping over them. She liked that Brenda felt comfortable in her home. She felt comfortable with Brenda in her home. A part of her wanted to keep the blonde there for as long as possible.

_Take it slow, Sharon,_ she reminded herself. She really did mean it; she feared they'd get burnt out on each other if they tried to take on too much too quickly. Brenda's marriage wasn't over, not yet, and a small part of Sharon still worried about being the "other woman". No matter how unhappy Brenda may have been before Sharon came along, she was still leaving her husband and promptly jumping into a relationship with Sharon, and that didn't sit very well with the Captain.

She pushed these thoughts away, however, as her lover waltzed into the kitchen and directly into her arms.

Sharon kissed her, and Brenda responded, wrapping one arm around her waist and tangling her free hair in the dark tresses Sharon had left loose and curly today. Brenda's fingers almost always found their way to Sharon's hair, pulling her closer, drawing her in. Sharon loved it.

She wondered briefly if she would ever tell Brenda all the little things she loved about her, but she knew that now was not the time. Later. There would be time enough for all of that, later.

The timer she had set for the pots cooking on the stove began to chime, and she slipped out of Brenda's grasp with a smile.

"Go ahead and pour the wine while I finish getting this ready," she said, the first words either had spoken since Brenda had arrived.

Brenda smiled brightly in reply, and did as she was told. They danced around each other, grabbing plates and silverware and long-stemmed glasses until they were seated across from each other at Sharon's modest table.

"So, honey, how was your day?" Brenda asked with an impish grin, and Sharon laughed.

"Pretty good, Chief,' she answered, and the use of her rank no longer cut Brenda as it had before. She knew better. She knew, without having to be told, just how much she meant to Sharon, and that felt good.

"What about you? Things must be slow if you have enough time to eat an actual meal," Sharon said, watching Brenda carefully over the rim of her glass.

Brenda actually had the good grace to blush. "Well, we do have an open case, and there's plenty we could be doing right now, but it's nothing that won't keep 'til tomorrow. Chief Pope's always fussing at me about all the over time my detectives work, and working through the night wouldn't put us all that far ahead in the end, anyway."

Sharon dropped her fork in surprise. She couldn't help it. No matter how long they'd known each other, Brenda constantly defied every preconceived notion Sharon had about her. Brenda, who threw herself into every case, who worked herself to the bone, who slept on her couch and didn't see her husband for days at a time because of her devotion to the job, had decided that it could wait, and she had come to spend time with Sharon. Sharon wasn't foolish enough to think she was the only reason Brenda wasn't at work tonight, but she couldn't help but feel that she was at least one reason, and that thought touched her. She reached across the table and held Brenda's hand for a moment. She said nothing, but she knew that Brenda understood.

···

"Sharon?" Brenda said, leaning against the door, shoes in her hand.

"Hmm?"

"I don't want to leave."

Sharon considered her for a moment, and then smiled gently.

"Then don't."

···

They slept together that night, but only _slept_ together, bodies tangled closely, skin warming skin through the over-sized t-shirt Sharon had loaned to Brenda and the silk nightie Sharon had worn.

When the alarm rang out that morning, Sharon had to reach across Brenda to turn it off, and that movement gave Brenda the chance to pull Sharon down on top of her. She kissed her with far too much enthusiasm for the early hour, slipping her thigh between Sharon's legs. Sharon moaned into her mouth, barely awake and already on fire with the need she felt for the blonde tucked underneath her. She shivered as Brenda's hands began to wander, but her rational side kicked in before she completely lost control.

She pulled away, kissing the tip of Brenda's nose.

"I have to take a shower," she said, sliding out of the bed and slipping her clothes over her head as she began to walk towards the bathroom.

"I can't believe you're gonna leave me here all alone," Brenda said, and Sharon didn't have to be looking at her to know she was pouting.

"I wasn't gonna leave you there," Sharon answered, hand on the bathroom door. She turned her head and cast a smirk over her shoulder at the blonde. "I thought you'd come with me."

Brenda very nearly vaulted from the bed, t-shirt landing unceremoniously in a heap in the floor.

Sharon laughed as they stepped into the shower together, though her laugh quickly changed into a moan of approval as Brenda turned her around, facing the wall of the shower, hands thrown forward against the cool tile to support herself. She could feel Brenda behind her, naked and pressed against her skin, and she knew she was already wet, inside and out.

Brenda kissed her neck, her shoulders, hands reaching forward to cup her breasts, toying with her nipples. Sharon hummed her encouragement and Brenda laughed. She continued to play with her, grateful just for the chance to touch her Captain, to listen to the sounds she made in the stillness of the morning. She felt Sharon tremble underneath her, and she turned her around, pulled her into her arms. Brenda pushed her back against the wall with more force than was probably necessary, and Sharon clutched onto her for support, holding her close as Brenda lifted one of her long legs and wrapped it around her own waist. She ran her hand across Sharon's skin, thinking how many people wasted their time staring at Sharon's gorgeous legs, and how lucky she was to be the one who was allowed to touch them. She couldn't resist the draw of Sharon's heat, however; she could feel the other woman's sex, so close to her own, and wanted nothing so much as to make Sharon come, to watch that rapturous expression dance across her face. She slid her hand back up Sharon's leg, and across her hip, down through the thatch of curls and into her folds. Sharon leaned forward and caught her earlobe between her teeth, and Brenda hissed as she plunged two fingers into Sharon.

She had begun this little dance with every intention of moving slowly, but now, in the moment, she couldn't stop herself. She fucked Sharon like her life depended on it, and maybe it did.

Sharon was begging her now, begging for release, with three of Brenda's fingers inside her and Brenda's mouth hot against the damp skin of her breast. She realized too late that Brenda was going to leave a mark there, and she smiled as she remembered doing exactly the same thing to Brenda once.

And then she couldn't focus enough even to smile, because all she knew was Brenda's hand insider her, Brenda's body holding her up, and the feeling of bliss that washed over her as she came. She pulled Brenda against her, kissing her hard, and slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor of the shower with Brenda in her lap, the water beating down on top of them.

Brenda's whole body was shaking with the need she felt for Sharon, so near to the edge just from making her come, just from watching her face, and she pulled Sharon as close as she could, dropping a leg on either side of her, shifting her hips down against Sharon's, desperate for release. Sharon responded without having to be asked, deft fingers finding her heat without even looking, rubbing circles against her clit until Brenda arched her spine, threw her head back and moaned, riding Sharon's hand until she collapsed against her, boneless and happy.

Sharon kissed her neck, her jaw, her brow, her nose.

"We should probably get cleaned up," Brenda mumbled, and Sharon laughed.

"Probably. But…" she trailed off.

"But what?" Brenda asked, lifting her head.

Sharon kissed her, long and slow, before replying. "I don't want to move."

Brenda grinned, shifting her hips, hands sliding up Sharon's back and into her hair. "Then don't."


	14. Chapter 14

On the third day of no Fritz, Sharon drove to Brenda's house for Chinese take out.

···

_Not here! _Sharon thought desperately, even as she forced her tongue past Brenda's lips. _Not here._

She was trying, she was really trying, to keep this… whatever this was the hell away from Brenda's house. Away from Fritz.

But then she had agreed to come over to Brenda's house for dinner, and she had _really_ wanted to be there, and then this had happened. Sharon knew that Brenda had been purposeful in her seduction, and that was certainly what it was. The lingering touches, the meaningful glances, the deep glasses of wine, the way she'd smirked when she promised that Fritz wasn't coming home that night.

And then in a sweeping, reckless gesture, Brenda had pulled off her own shirt and pressed herself against Sharon, and all of Sharon's good intentions flew out the window. How could she toe the line she'd drawn for herself, when everything she'd ever wanted was within her grasp? And when had Brenda become everything she'd ever wanted?

It had happened, obviously, and now Brenda was furiously fucking Sharon's mouth with her tongue while nimble fingers plucked at the buttons on her blouse. Sharon let her, because nothing, _nothing_, had ever felt as good as Brenda Leigh Johnson, warm and wet and willing, pushed up against her.

Sharon let out a moan when Brenda finally pulled the blouse off her shoulders, and lowered her mouth to one lace-clad breast. Sharon had always been… _vocal,_ but Brenda inspired sounds in her she'd never expected from herself. She felt needy, she felt needed, she felt just a little bit dirty, and not even a little bit ashamed.

Each of them reached for the clasp of the other's bra at the same moment, and Sharon couldn't help the throaty laugh that escaped her at their eagerness. Since their first taste of what they could be together, in the half-light of her bedroom all those months ago, their desire for one another had been near insatiable. Lust was not a feeling Sharon was used to, but she found it suited her quite well.

Finally bared to one another, at least from the waist up, hard nipples brushing and catching against one another, Brenda stilled for a moment. Her fingers gently brushed over the scars left behind by the bullets and Sharon shivered.

"I nearly lost you," Brenda said, and Sharon knew she meant it, in more ways than one. Those bullets had nearly taken her life, and that day in the hospital had nearly ended their relationship. But they were together now, and each was grateful for the turn fate had taken. Brenda leaned over, running her lips over the edge of the scars, and something inside Sharon broke at her tenderness. Sharon violently switched their positions, trapping Brenda between her own warm body and the counter. Brenda made a sound Sharon had never heard before, a sound she had no word for, a sound that communicated everything Brenda wanted from her, and Sharon knew she had to have her. Here, against the counter, in the kitchen of the home Brenda shared with her husband. Because fuck it all, as wrong as it might have been, it felt so fucking right.

Sharon dipped her head to Brenda's breast, and relished the sight of Brenda's back arching, the feel of the blonde's nipple in her mouth, the rush of the moment.

"Sharon, baby, please," Brenda moaned, and Sharon knew exactly what it was her Chief was begging for. It was exactly what her Captain wanted to give her.

Sharon didn't bother removing Brenda's skirt or even her panties; there would be time for slow and sensual and completely naked later. Now there was only time for this, telling Brenda without words what she felt. Sharon hitched Brenda's skirt up to her hips, wrapped one of those glorious long legs around her waist, tugged soaking cotton to the side and pressed two fingers inside the Deputy Chief.

Brenda cried out, loud and long and sweet, and reached for Sharon's face, pulling her close, kissing her between exclamations of want.

"Baby," Brenda gasped, kissed her jaw, cried again, "oh, Sharon, my Sharon…" her voice trailed off as her lips somehow found their way to Sharon's pulse point, taking up residence there, sucking hard.

It occurred to Sharon, as she thrust her fingers inside Brenda and ground the palm of her hand against Brenda's clit, that the Deputy Chief was probably going to leave another mark. A visible bruise on her neck to go with the hidden one Brenda had left on her breast that morning. And in a fit of desire, Sharon decided not to cover the hickey tomorrow. To wear it proudly, like she was seventeen again, showing off. She wanted everyone to know that she belonged to someone. That someone belonged to her.

Brenda was shaking, and nearly biting Sharon's neck now, and everything about this moment was perfect. Sharon could feel the warmth and wet, the heartbeat of her lover against her hand, and she never wanted it to end. She wanted to stay here, wrapped up together, forever.

But nothing lasts forever, and Brenda broke away from Sharon's neck, gasping, crying, moaning, all at once. She kept calling Sharon "baby", and for once in her life, that particular term of endearment didn't bother her. She liked it when Brenda called her "baby". She liked to think that Brenda felt as much for her as she did for her blonde Chief. She liked to pretend, even if it was just for these few stolen moments, that they had a real relationship. That at the end of the day they went home to each other. Because this- Brenda pressed against her, Brenda's mark on her neck, Brenda's pussy in her hand- felt like home to Sharon.

With one last keening cry, Brenda came, a rush of fluid against Sharon's hand and a lightness in Sharon's heart because she had done this, had made Brenda feel this good, had made Brenda call her "baby". And Sharon thought, as she brought her down with soothing touches and featherlight kisses, maybe tonight Sharon would call Brenda baby, find a way to tell her what she meant to her.

Brenda collapsed forward against her, wrapping her in a tight embrace, resting her head on the bruise she'd left on Sharon's neck.

"I love you," Brenda whispered, so softly that for a moment Sharon thought she had only imagined it. And then Brenda looked up at her, eyes teary and hopeful, and Sharon knew that she wasn't dreaming.

"Brenda," she sighed, kissing her again, because she looked so perfect. "Brenda, baby," she said again, trying the word out on her lips, "I know. I know." Because she did know. She'd known from the moment she'd first felt the touch of Brenda's hand against her bare skin.

"Sharon…?" Brenda asked, her voice so confused and afraid that Sharon hated herself for the briefest of moments for not answering her immediately.

"I love you, too," Sharon said, wishing those words didn't so used, so empty. Wishing there was a better way to say it. "I love you so much."

Brenda smiled then, a true smile that lit up her whole face, and Sharon felt herself smiling, too, so joyful to have this woman, to have her love.

And then Brenda was kissing her again, her fingers finding the zipper on Sharon's trousers, and Sharon kissed her right back, feeling the brush of their tongues, and, as the kiss grew more heated, the clash of their teeth.

She let Brenda pull off her pants, and laughed at the expression on Brenda's face when the blonde discovered she wasn't wearing any underwear.

"Sharon," Brenda said in a tone of wonder, running her long, smooth fingers along the length of Sharon's sex, feeling the brunette tremble in her arms.

Sharon wanted to say something cheeky about how she'd been planning ahead when she got dressed that morning- which was actually true- but Brenda didn't give her the chance. She spun them around, encouraging Sharon to jump up on the counter, pulling her feet onto her shoulders as she knelt before her. Sharon's knees fell apart as Brenda's hands ran up and down the length of her legs, as Brenda's lips laid gentle kisses on the insides of her thighs.

Brenda hadn't done this before, and it seemed so right, somehow, that this was the moment she chose to. She had admitted her feelings for Sharon, and now she was going to show her.

Sharon threw her head back and moaned at the first touch of Brenda's lips to her sex. She wrapped her fingers in blonde curls as Brenda's tongue snaked out, tasting her, sending a spiral of want curling through Sharon's body. Naked, on the counter, with her feet on Brenda's shoulders, Sharon felt sexier than she ever had in her life. She felt more desired, more welcome than she had with any other lover. And again she wished it would never end.

But then Brenda wrapped her lips around Sharon's clit and gently pressed one willowy finger inside of Sharon, and all coherent thought left her. She writhed, she moaned, she nearly sobbed when Brenda added a second finger and grazed the hard nub of Sharon's clit with her teeth.

Sharon felt her impending release washing over her, gaining strength, becoming something greater than anything she had ever felt before.

Looking back on it, Sharon would have no words for the abject despair that filled her heart at what happened next.

She was so caught up in the moment, in the feel of Brenda's mouth against her throbbing sex, that she could not hear the sound of the bedroom door opening over her own keening cries. Her eyes were open, however, and what she saw next would become a memory that haunted her.

Fritz stood in the doorway of the kitchen, bare-chested and sleepy-eyed, his expression unreadable.

Sharon knew how this must have looked, because it looked exactly like what it was. Sharon was naked on the counter, and Fritz's wife had her head buried between Sharon's legs.

"Brenda," Sharon said, the word sounding too much like a cry of pleasure as Brenda plunged a third finger inside of her, unaware of Fritz in the doorway.

He said nothing, frozen perhaps, but his eyes were locked on Sharon's.

"Brenda, baby, please, baby," Sharon cried desperately, but Brenda didn't stop, didn't look up. When she wanted something, the Deputy Chief stopped for no one.

Sharon sobbed, tears of sorrow trailing down her cheeks as she came, trying with all her might to pull Brenda to her feet.

Brenda finally, _finally, _realized something was wrong, rising to her feet, wiping her face with the back of her clean hand.

"Sharon, what is it? What did I do? Baby?" she held Sharon's face in her hands, but Sharon was crying too hard to speak.

Fritz did it for her.

"Brenda," he said, his voice broken, devastated, nearly choked with unshed tears.

Brenda spun around, not taking the time to cover herself, but standing protectively in front of Sharon, shielding her naked form from Fritz's eyes.

It was too late.

It was too late for everything.

···

Fritz had turned and walked away, not saying another word, and Sharon was struggling to pull her pants on, thrown off-balance by her orgasm and her tears. Brenda pulled her shirt on, tried to comfort Sharon, but the Captain was having none of it.

"You need to deal with that," she said, gesturing towards the door through which Fritz had disappeared. She grabbed her purse from where she had dropped it by the door, and left without another word.

Alone in the kitchen now, with the smell of Sharon on her skin, Brenda fought valiantly to pull herself together. She didn't know who she was more heartbroken for- Sharon, Fritz, or herself. Why did this have to happen now? Why now, when she'd finally told Sharon how she felt, when she'd finally heard the words she's always wanted to hear from Sharon, when everything had finally fallen in place? This was absolutely not the way she wanted to tell Fritz about what was happening; even if she didn't love him anymore, at least not the way she loved Sharon, he was still her husband, they had still shared so much, and she hated herself for what had happened.

She went back into their bedroom, and discovered Fritz, fully-dressed now and packing a bag.

"Fritzi," she said, unsure of what she would say next but feeling the need to say something, "I want to-"

"I called a cab," he said, cutting her off, not turning to face her. "My car is in the shop; we got shot at today, and they shattered my windshield."

Brenda felt the tears she still hadn't cried yet begin to pool in the corner of her eyes.

"Fritzi, please-"

"I really don't want to talk to you," he said, his voice oddly calm. He didn't seem to be angry, just devastated, and that was what really broke Brenda. She wanted him to be angry with her, wanted him to yell, to stand up for himself, but this broken resignation was more than she could bear. She reached out for his hand, but he pulled away.

"Don't," he said, finally turning to face her.

There was a honk outside. The cab had arrived.

Fritz walked out the door without another word.

And as she collapsed in the floor, sobbing, arms wrapped around herself, all Brenda could think was, _Damn, that was fast._

_···_

Brenda called Sharon's cell.

She didn't answer.

Brenda called Sharon's home line.

She didn't answer.

Brenda drove by Sharon's house.

She wasn't there.

For the first time in a long time, Brenda was well and truly alone.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Apologies for the angst. Hang in there. xoxo**

**···**

_I've hardly been outside my room in days,_

_'Cause I don't feel that I deserve the sunshine's rays_

_The darkness helped until the whiskey wore away,_

_And it was then I realized the conscience never fades_

_When you're young you have this image of your life,_

_That you'll be scrupulous and one day even make a wife_

_And you make boundaries you'd never dream to cross,_

_And if you happen to, you wake completely lost_

_But I will fight for you, _

_Be sure that I will fight, _

_Until we're the special two once again_

_And we will only need each other, we'll bleed together,_

_Our hands will not be taught to hold another's,_

_'Cause we're the special two  
>And we could only see each other, we'll breathe together,<em>

_These arms will not be taught to need another's,_

'_Cause we're the special two_

_-Missy Higgins, "The Special Two"_

···

It has been a week and Sharon is gone, and so is Fritz, and Brenda hasn't slept. People know now, that both the people who loved her are gone, but if they have drawn connections, they say nothing. She hears from Pope that Sharon has asked for more time away. Sharon has told Pope that work was too much too fast, that she needs more time to heal. Brenda suspects that Sharon _does_ need to time to heal, but not from the bullets. Sharon needs time to heal from the sucker punch delivered to her courtesy of Brenda's long-suffering indecisiveness. Brenda wonders where Sharon has gone, because Brenda drives by her house every night and she is not there. No one seems to know where she is.

On the seventh day, Brenda dares to walk into the offices of FID. She knows the name of only one of the several handsome young men who work for Sharon. His name is Elliot, and she knows him because she flashed her badge at him, that first case, back when Gabriel was under investigation and she thought Sharon was the enemy.

She asks Elliot if he knows where Sharon is, and she sees the incredulity dance across the young man's face. He cannot believe Deputy Chief Johnson is here, asking after his boss not out of anger but out of concern. He cannot believe how upset she looks, and a part of him wonders if maybe she knows more about the Captain's disappearance than she is telling. He worked with the Captain for those three days. She was joyful and energetic. She smiled more than she had in the last three years. She'd bought them all doughnuts. He cannot believe she needed more time. He knows something must have happened, and is hurt that she did not confide in him.

He tells Brenda that he does not know where Sharon is, and Brenda does not linger. It would not do to be discovered moping in the places where Sharon used to be, and Brenda vows not to drive by her house or call her. She will be strong, she will find her own sure footing, and one day soon Sharon will come back. Sharon must come back, because Brenda loves her, and does not know where she is without her. Brenda feels vaguely lost as she wanders back up to her offices. She knows there is something she should be doing- a case to solve, paper work to fill out, someone to call about something- but her mind cannot seem to stay focused on any one thing today. Her thoughts keep drifting back, to deep green eyes and soft skin, to kind laughter and gentle arms, to a feeling of buoyant joy and to a loss so keen she wonders if she will ever recover from it.

···

Fritz is waiting for her when she gets home, and this just serves to compound the anxiety that has been growing within her throughout the day.

"Brenda," he says when she opens the door, and she offers him the closest thing to a smile she can muster. She's exhausted from days without sleep, and from the endless feelings of guilt and worry that nag at her mind, and she's beginning to wonder how much longer this can go on before she becomes certifiably insane.

"Hey, Fritz," she says, and goes straight for the Merlot in the kitchen. He follows her.

"I thought maybe we should talk," he tells her, and she leans against the counter with the glass in her hand. Unfortunately, it's the same counter she was fucking Sharon against, and she's flooded with memories- how Sharon felt, the expression on her face, the sound of her voice, the taste of her- and she knows that Fritz must remember, too, so she jumps away from it as if burned by the contact. Fritz notices, and she sees the pained expression cross his face.

"I thought you didn't want to talk to me," Brenda says, and he considers her quietly for a moment. She is not petulant, as he would expect her to be, nor is she trying to manipulate him to get what she wants. She seems tired, but in this moment she appears before him more honestly than she has in all the years they've been together. It seems strange to him that it took the end of their marriage for them to reach this even footing.

"I'm going back to D.C.," he tells her, and she just nods. She's listening but not looking at him. He wonders where her mind is, what's been keeping her from sleep. He knows that Sharon is gone, and Fritz is beginning to suspect that it is this loss, and not his own disappearance from her life, that has almost completely broken the sad, beautiful woman in front of him.

"Is that promotion still available?" she asks him, and once again he is surprised. Brenda was listening. Brenda seems to actually care about what his answer will be. He suspects that she does not want to be responsible for holding him back, professionally or personally, any longer. He is impressed by how much she seems to have grown in the last seven days, and he has to force himself to look at the counter, to remember what he saw, so that he can remember why he wants to leave her.

"It is. I got lucky."

She nods, drains her glass, goes to fill it again. Fritz tried for seven years not to project his own demons onto his wife, but he can't help but notice she's drinking a lot, and quickly. It's early yet, and he wonders if she will continue to drink once he is gone. He contemplates telling her to take it slow, but he doubts it will do very much good. When the Deputy Chief wants something, she stops for no one.

"Do you want me to take Joel?" he asks her, and this is why he has really come. They must talk about who will get what, and lawyers, and divorce, and they've both done this before. He knows dividing up their stuff will be easy; it's all hers, anyway. His things are few and far between, many of them still tucked away in a storage unit.

Brenda is staring at him, though. _Take Joel? _She wonders, her eyes immediately searching out the cat. She loves that cat, loves having an animal around, but she knows she cannot keep him. Joel would be a constant reminder of Fritz, like a child who doesn't talk. Joel was the present Fritz bought for Brenda to ease her suffering at the loss of Kitty. Fritz always had to do the hard things when it came to Kitty, and the same is true for Joel. Fritz is the one who feeds him, cleans his litter box. Brenda doesn't deserve to keep him, and a part of her worries that Joel will miss this man. Maybe more than she will.

"You should probably take him," she says. "He's your cat, anyway."

Fritz smiles sadly at her, nods.

"Can I ask you a question?" his eyeing her carefully now, gauging her reaction.

She hums in response, but the hum makes her think of Sharon, and the ache in her heart triples in size.

"How long were you…" his voice trails off, unable to find a way to say the words without sounding crass or vindictive. "I mean, was it since that night you stayed at her house?" That was such a long time ago, but Fritz has never forgotten it. He swore he would never give his wife a reason to seek comfort from someone else. He didn't realize it was too late.

Brenda finishes her second glass, but does not refill it. Fritz is grateful for that. "That was the first time," she tells him quietly.

_The first time._ The first of many, he supposes. He remembers the way Brenda had lunged protectively in front of Sharon, the sound of Sharon's voice calling her name. Calling her _baby_. He suspects whatever was between them may have been more than sex, and this hurts him worse than the sex did. He wants to ask Brenda why she chose a woman, but a part of him thinks that even Brenda wouldn't be able to explain that particular mystery.

"You love her, don't you?" he asks, his words surprising himself.

If Brenda hadn't spent so much time over the last few days crying, she probably would have broken down at his question, but she cannot bring herself to shed another tear.

"Yes," she says.

_Yes. _

And there it is, the truth hanging between them, the most honest moment of their entire marriage and it is the moment Brenda tells him she's in love with someone else.

"I hope she comes back," he says, and kisses Brenda on the cheek before he leaves. He'll come back for Joel later. Right now he knows she's hurting, and the last thing she needs is for him to go tearing her house apart.

···

"You can't stay here forever, darling," Eliza tells her, refilling her glass, but Sharon says nothing. Sharon hasn't said much at all in the last week, and Eliza has practically gone mad trying to bite her tongue.

"Sharon, you have to talk to me. You can't hide when things don't work out the way you want them to."

"I'm not hiding," Sharon says, finally speaking.

"Oh, okay, then. What are you doing?"

"I'm thinking about moving back East."

Eliza sits in stunned silence for a moment. Sharon is thinking about leaving. Sharon, who never walks away from anything.

"Chloe's got an apartment in Berkeley, she won't be coming home again this summer. And I've got friends in New York. And Boston. And D.C. There are places I could go."

"Is that what you want?"

Sharon nods, but she's not looking at Eliza. She's been refusing to make eye contact since she first showed up at Eliza's doorstep.

"I miss the cold," Sharon tells her.

"I don't pretend to know what happened, Sharon, or what you're feeling right now, and I know I only met Brenda once, but please think this through. She ended her marriage for you. That's a huge leap of faith. Are you really going to sit there and tell me there's no way you two could work this out?"

Eliza never thought she would be advising Sharon to make a relationship work with someone else, but here she sits, trying her damndest to do just that. It's funny, really, how quickly things change.

Sharon shakes her head. "There's nothing to be done."


	16. Chapter 16

_I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited  
>But I couldn't stay away<br>Couldn't fight it  
>I had hoped you'd see my face<br>And that you'd be reminded  
>That for me<br>It isn't over_

_-Adele, "Someone Like You"_

···

Another week passed, and Brenda was starting to feel as if she were falling apart, like an old sweater, tattered, full of holes. She had been alone before. She used to think she was better off that way, without someone nagging at her, telling her to clean up her mess and come home from work. Now she kept forgetting things, kept walking away in the middle of conversations. She couldn't find anything anymore. Sharon had been her compass, her map, her one constant, and Sharon was gone.

_Sharon is gone._ That thought came to Brenda at the strangest moments; in the middle of an investigation, in line at the Chinese restaurant, in the shower, in the car. _Sharon is gone. _It always hit Brenda like a train, derailing her, throwing her off track. _Sharon is gone_. And Brenda didn't know how to move forward. She wasn't sure she could.

···

Brenda walked into the office in the morning, her clothes wrinkled because she hadn't bothered to do the laundry, and had nothing clean to wear. She knew she probably looked like hell. She'd finally started sleeping, sort of. A few hours here and there. A few hours when she dreamed that Sharon was still with her, and woke feeling bereft and lonely, with no warm body beside her.

Gabriel met her as she entered the empty murder room.

"Sergeant," she said, nodding her head in greeting. "Where is everyone?"

Gabriel looked a little uneasy as he answered. "They're all at the crime scene. Before you get mad, Chief, it was all Lieutenant Flynn's idea. There's a woman waiting in your office, and Flynn says you need to talk to her first."

Brenda could feel her ire rising at Flynn, pissed off that he thought he knew best. Did everyone think Brenda was incompetent? Were the cracks in her life beginning to show?

"Well, who is this woman that's so important?" she asked, and Gabriel shrugged.

"I don't know, Chief, but Flynn knows her. I'll wait out here, and I'll drive you to the crime scene when you're done."

Evidently Gabriel didn't trust her to drive her own car anymore, and Brenda was so grateful for his thoughtfulness she didn't even take the time to feel righteous indignation at his presumptuousness.

"Thank you, Sergeant. I'll be just a minute." She had every intention of sending this woman away, and going to do her job. Her job was all she had left. It wasn't enough, anymore, but it was the one thing to which she could still cling.

When Brenda opened the door to her office, she was in no way prepared for the sight that greeted her.

Eliza was sitting on Brenda's desk, legs crossed and dangling. She smiled at Brenda when she saw her, but her eyes betrayed her concern.

"Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson," she said, toying with the edge of her dress.

"Eliza?" Brenda had couldn't imagine what this woman was doing here.

Eliza slid off the desk and onto her feet. "I'm sorry for barging in like this, but I realized I didn't have your number. I wanted to talk to you."

Brenda walked around her and dropped into her chair with a sigh. She opened her candy drawer, and was greeted by nothing but empty wrappers. After Sharon she didn't even have the energy to go to the store and buy more. After Sharon she couldn't bring herself to do anything she used to do without thinking.

Eliza realized Brenda wasn't going to say anything, and she plunged forward.

"Sharon's moving," she said, and the look of utter devastation on Brenda's face tugged at her heartstrings. "She's going to work for the NYPD. She's there now, looking for a house."

Brenda's thoughts wandered back over Sharon's house, with all its space and its atrium and its much-too-big bed, and she felt the tears she'd been holding back for the last two weeks edge forward. Sharon loved that house. There would be nothing like it in New York. Sharon might have fit in, with her sharp suits and her perfect hair, but she was made for sunshine and light, wide-open spaces, and Brenda worried that New York would crush her spirit.

"You have to stop her, Brenda." Eliza's eyes were shining and her voice, normally so proud, was practically pleading. "You have to find her and you have to stop her. She's miserable, Brenda, without you."

"Tell me how, Eliza? She won't answer my calls. She disappeared that night and she never came back. She wouldn't even answer her damn email."

Eliza pulled an envelope out of her jacket pocket and handed it to Brenda. Brenda opened her mouth to ask what the hell it was when Eliza told her. "There's a one-way plane ticket in there, and the address for the hotel where she's staying. You've got about three hours to get home and pack, and then get to the airport."

Brenda was already on her feet. She leaned forward and kissed Eliza on the cheek. "Thank you," she said with shining eyes, the most genuine _thank you _she had delivered in years.

"Go," Eliza said, nudging her shoulders, and Brenda ran. Out of her office, past a startled Gabriel, down the hall, skidding to a stop before deciding she didn't even want to wait on the elevator, and then tearing down the stairs. Eliza's joyful laughter echoed behind her.

···

Brenda's cab dropped her in front of the hotel around 10pm, and she checked in, not surprised to find that Eliza had gotten her a room as well. Just in case.

She dropped her bag upstairs, and changed into her red dress. The one that had made Sharon's face light up the day Brenda had to interview with the Mayor. Even back then Brenda suspected she had known, had been baiting Sharon, trying to feel out the attraction between them. She often wondered what would have happened if they had begun this affair back then, but she couldn't help but think they were always destined to end up here.

She went down to the bar, deciding she would ask the desk clerk which room was Sharon's in the morning. She would sit outside Sharon's room and wait all day if she had to, so she could be there when Sharon came back. She would stay on her knees for the rest of her life if that was what it took to get her Sharon back.

She ordered a glass of Merlot at the bar, and took it back to a little booth so she could watch the people dancing, the people at the bar, the people coming and going. She liked this, being anonymous. In her life, everyone knew who she was. Everyone circled around her, doing what she said, even if they fought it at first.

She noticed the dim bar lights glinting on a head of unruly curls without even really looking. She noticed a too-short black dress, and unemotional green eyes. She noticed a beautiful face, thin arms wrapped around a tall man, dancing in the middle of the throng of people.

It was as if a spotlight had turned on, as if Sharon were dancing center-stage in a play about regrets.

_Sharon._

Sharon in the flesh, looking unhappy, not because she wasn't smiling, but because Brenda knew her well enough to tell the difference between a genuine smile and one put there for self preservation. The man's back was to Brenda, but she didn't have to see his face to know that he was probably handsome. Sharon had good taste, even if she was dancing with a stranger at a hotel bar. The possibility that he was not a stranger crossed Brenda's mind, but she quickly dismissed it.

She stood up from her booth, unsure of what she was going to do or say, just knowing she had to end that dance.

Sharon saw her.

They stood frozen, staring at one another, for longer than either of them really knew.

"Baby? Something wrong?" Brenda heard the man ask Sharon, and she almost laughed at the wave of jealousy that over took her when she heard him call Sharon baby.

Her feet carried her to them faster than she would have thought possible.

"She's not your baby," Brenda said lightly, arms reaching out, snaking around Sharon's waist, pulling her close and kissing her before either of them could stop it.

The man made an indignant little sound, but when they didn't stop, he wandered off, muttering under his breath.

They broke for air, arms tangling around each other, bodies swaying lightly to the song. People were staring at the two gorgeous women dancing together, but the novelty of it quickly faded.

"You came," Sharon said softly, and Brenda nodded, resting her head on Sharon's shoulder.

"I had to see you."

She looked up at Sharon and saw tears glistening in the corners of her eyes.

"I need you, Sharon. And I want you to be happy. And I'm not going to tell you that you have to come back with me, if it's not what you want. I know I don't deserve you-"

"Oh, shut up already," Sharon sniffled, kissing her hair. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You're not?"

Sharon shook her head. "I've been in this stupid city for a day, and I already know I can't stay here. It's too far away from you."

She reached out, taking Brenda's face in her hands. "I love you," she said seriously.

Brenda turned her head slightly, kissing Sharon's fingers. "I love you, too."

They danced together for what seemed like hours, kissing here and there, hands wandering over familiar territory, speaking when they felt like it, laughing often, and when the bartender called out closing time, Sharon took Brenda by the hand and led her up the stairs to her room.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: I had requests for reunion!sexings, and I can never deny y'all anything. So I present to you some (slightly ridiculous) sexings, and not even a little angst. Warning for toys, I guess? xoxo**

···

They collapsed on the bed together, still fully-clothed and still buoyantly happy. After everything, all the arguing and the tears and the uncertainty, they were together. They had found their way back to each other, and there was nothing keeping them apart.

Sharon reached out and gently ran her hand over Brenda's hair, smiling. "I still can't believe you're here," she whispered, afraid to speak too loudly, afraid of losing the perfection of the moment.

Brenda took her hand and kissed it. "I'll always be here, as long as you'll have me."

"You just walked out and came to find me," Sharon said, her mind still stuck on the impossibility of the situation, and Brenda nodded.

"I had some help," she said, and Sharon laughed. Brenda had told her all about her visit from Eliza, and Sharon had never been so thankful for her former lover as she was now.

"Eliza didn't make you leave," she pointed out. "You made that choice on your own."

"And I'd do it again in a heartbeat. You should have heard Will Pope when I told him I was taking some time off. I think he's afraid I'm having some kind of breakdown."

"You're not, are you?"

Brenda shook her head. "I'm better now than I have been in years."

Sharon drew her close, wrapping her in her arms, kissing her.

Neither was sure how long they stayed like that, lying in each other's arms, kissing softly, but the mood was utterly broken when Brenda yawned. Sharon laughed and Brenda gazed at her sheepishly. "I'm sorry," she said, but Sharon just kept laughing.

Brenda slid out of the bed and wandered across the room on bare feet, heading for Sharon's suitcase. She started rummaging through it, smiling as she touched Sharon's things.

Sharon got up and stood behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist and resting her head on Brenda's shoulder.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Looking for something to wear to bed. All my things are in my room, and I don't want to go all the way back there."

"You don't have to wear anything," Sharon purred in her ear, and Brenda shivered as she felt her Captain kiss the back of her neck.

Brenda gasped as her fingers came into contact with something that was most definitely _not _a nightgown.

"Sharon?"

"Hmm?" she answered, eyes closed as she rested against her lover.

Brenda spun in her arms, holding the object in her hand, a look of surprise and something dangerously close to glee in her eyes.

Sharon actually blushed. She opened her mouth to explain why she'd brought a vibrator with her, but Brenda didn't give her the chance. She kissed her hard, propelling them back towards the bed with a sense of purpose.

Brenda suddenly wasn't so tired anymore.

She undressed Sharon more quickly than she ever had before, stopping for only the briefest of moments to allow Sharon to tug her dress up and over her head. She reveled in the expression of want that crossed Sharon's face when she saw that Brenda was naked under her dress. This brief pause gave Sharon the chance to take control, flipping them over with ease, catching Brenda underneath her, a possessive grin on her face.

"Gotcha," she said softly as she leaned forward to pepper kisses across Brenda's breast, and the blonde moaned under her.

"You'll always have me," she said, and Sharon looked up at her with green eyes so full of love that Brenda never wanted to leave this room ever again. They had everything they needed here- room service and a nice view and, most importantly, each other.

Sharon caught Brenda's hands in her own and lifted them above her head, wrapping Brenda's fingers around the headboard. She squeezed Brenda's wrists firmly, letting her know she wanted her to keep them there, and Brenda's eyes widened.

Sharon's mouth latched on to one of Brenda's nipples, her hands traveling south down her lover's torso, the vibrator forgotten for the moment.

As Sharon's fingers brushed through damp curls Brenda arched up underneath her, made wanton by the just the touch of Sharon's hand. She moaned as Sharon slipped a single finger inside her, pushing up through the wetness, everything Brenda wanted and nowhere near enough. Sharon kissed her neck, her jaw, smiling against her skin as Brenda moaned, a sound closer to a whine than any Sharon had ever heard from her before.

Sharon kept her finger inside Brenda, pushing slowly in and out, driving the blonde crazy with want, making promises and not delivering. She reached out with her free hand and picked up the vibrator, feeling Brenda shudder with anticipation as she turned it on.

"Please," Brenda gasped as Sharon ran the vibe across the sensitive skin on her inner thighs, _so close_, but not quite where she needed it. Sharon laughed, catching a nipple between her teeth, drawing the toy in smaller and smaller circles, closer and closer to Brenda's center, never quite reaching its destination.

Brenda arched so hard beneath her she nearly threw Sharon off, but she was mindful to keep her hands exactly where Sharon had put them. "God, Sharon," she cried, "Please-"

"Please what?" Sharon asked with an evil little grin, lifting her mouth from Brenda's breast for only a moment. "What do you want?" She thrust her finger hard, and Brenda shuddered, following the digit with her hips, needing to get closer.

"I want you," the blonde cried. "I want you! I always want you."

Sharon leaned forward, kissing her with everything she had as she replaced her finger with the vibrator, and Brenda broke from the kiss, crying out as she felt it pushing through her folds, a delicious buzzing matched with the feel of Sharon's lips on her skin.

Brenda very nearly screamed as her orgasm tore through her, but Sharon wasn't done yet. She kept the vibe inside Brenda, pushing gently in and out, buzzing through the haze of desire that washed over the both of them, grinning as she slid down Brenda's body. She wrapped her lips around Brenda's clit and sucked hard, feeling the vibrations from Brenda's core to her own mouth and she moaned, the sound of it sending Brenda over the edge again.

Sharon gently slid the toy out and turned it off, throwing it to the side as she moved to lay alongside her gasping lover, resting her head on Brenda's collarbone and listening to the comforting hammering of her heart.

"As soon as I can move, I am _so _getting you back for that," Brenda told her, panting, and Sharon laughed again. Every time Sharon laughed Brenda couldn't help but think how beautiful she was, and she finally lowered her arms, holding her Captain close.

There was a knock on the door and Sharon bolted to her feet, pulling her blue silk robe off the back of a chair and draping it over herself, tying it to cover her nakedness. Brenda caught the sheet with her foot and pulled it up, hiding herself from view as Sharon went to open the door.

There was a slightly flustered security guard standing on the other side of the door.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but we've had a complaint about the noise coming from this room. Is everything alright?"

Brenda snorted.

"Everything's fine," Sharon told him with a remarkably straight face.

"Alright, well try to keep it down. Have a good night," the man said, and walked away as quickly as he could.

Sharon closed and locked the door, and walked back to the bed. She stood there for a moment, and Brenda watched her apprehensively. And then Sharon dissolved into giggles, covering her mouth with one hand, and Brenda grinned as she watched the display.

Sharon dropped her robe to the floor and crawled back into the bed beside Brenda. "I hope you're going to be able to move soon," she said, "or else I'll just have to take care of things myself."

Brenda's heart skipped into overdrive as she imagined Sharon "taking care of things" with the same vibrator she'd just used to make Brenda scream louder than she ever had before.

"Oh, trust me," Brenda said, leaning over to take Sharon's earlobe between her teeth. "I can move. The question is, can _you_ keep the noise down?"


	18. Chapter 18

When Sharon woke up, she had to bite her lower lip to keep from laughing aloud at the picture that presented itself. She and Brenda were tangled up together on top of the sheets, having not bothered to cover themselves up before they succumbed to sleep the night before. Sharon reached out and brushed a lock of long blonde hair out of Brenda's face, the Chief's features smoothed and peaceful in sleep. Brenda's head was resting on Sharon's collarbone, her breath ghosting across Sharon's breast, and the Captain berated herself for the small curl of arousal that tickled through her as she noticed just how close Brenda's lips were to her bare skin. She shifted slightly, and discovered Brenda hadn't just fallen asleep on top of her; Brenda had fallen asleep _inside_ of her, the blonde's fingers tucked up in the warmth between Sharon's legs.

Sharon was too wrapped up in the intimacy of the moment to move right away. She held perfectly still, watching Brenda sleep in the morning light slanting in through the shades drawn over the window and pondered all the steps that had gotten them this far. They had been through so much in the last few months; Sharon could see the scars from the bullets on her stomach and the pale line on Brenda's finger where her ring used to rest. A year ago she never would have dreamed that she would be in this position, or that she would be this happy to have her arms around the (often infuriating) Deputy Chief, and yet here they were. She didn't know what was going to happen when they got back to LA. With nothing standing in their way, would their affair lose the passion that had propelled them this far? Would their jobs come between them as they had in the past? They'd both lost relationships to their workaholic natures; would this romance become another casualty of their dedication to the LAPD?

Sharon forced herself to stop worrying. She couldn't keep thinking about the future, and all the uncertainty it held. As it always was with Brenda, this moment was all that Sharon was guaranteed, and she wasn't about to let it go.

She laid a gentle hand on Brenda's shoulder and shook her softly. "Brenda," she murmured, but the blonde didn't so much as twitch.

"Brenda," she said a little more forcefully, trying to remove the hand currently nestled against her sex, but it was no use. She sighed, flopping back against the pillows.

Brenda stirred slightly, pouting until she opened her eyes and saw Sharon looking down at her.

"Hey," Brenda slurred, tilting her chin up for a kiss, and Sharon obliged.

"Hey," she answered. "I'm going to get up. You want some coffee?" she asked, her hand finding its way down to Brenda's wrist to help the blonde dislodge, but Brenda wasn't having it.

"Mmm, coffee sounds good," Brenda said with a smile, "but there's something else I want first."

"Oh yeah?" Sharon arched her eyebrow.

"Yeah," Brenda said, nodding emphatically, shifting her fingers and making Sharon sigh.

"Oh," was all Sharon could think to say, and Brenda laughed, reaching up with her free hand to pull Sharon down into a searing kiss.

Sharon lost herself in the moment, in the feel of Brenda on top of her, completing her, pulling her together where she used to be only fractured pieces, and tried to ignore the troubles that nagged at her mind. She could worry later.

···

The trip back to LA didn't take nearly as long as Sharon wished it had. They had decided to go back at once, to try to get themselves settled and get back to work as soon as possible. They wanted to live their lives, and work was a part of that, even if Sharon wished it wasn't. She had no idea how she was going to handle their relationship at work. Best to keep it quiet for as long as possible, she figured, considering Fritz had just left, and the news that he had left because he walked in on Brenda going down on Sharon in the kitchen probably wouldn't go over well with the LAPD brass. Especially not Pope. There was a small, slightly juvenile part of Sharon that desperately wanted to be there when Pope was told, to watch the shock and horror and disappointment wash over his face. He was never going to get Brenda Leigh back; Sharon was going to make sure of that.

"So we'll go home, and I'll see you tomorrow," Sharon said as they loitered outside the terminal, trying to figure things out. Going their separate ways was going to be hard, and it was going to be harder if Brenda didn't let go of her hand.

Brenda nodded. "I've probably got some calls to return."

"I need to talk to the girls. And Eliza. I owe her, big time," Sharon said, squeezing Brenda's hand.

"Just don't start feeling too generous," Brenda said with a twinkle in her eye, and Sharon laughed. She leaned in and kissed her. The second time in the past day or so they had kissed in public, and the world hadn't imploded. It was a remarkable feeling.

"You're going to get a cab?" Sharon asked her as she pulled away. "You know I could just drive you home."

Brenda smiled. "Sure, Captain, but if you get within ten blocks of my house, I can't take responsibility for my actions. But I can tell you that we won't see the light of day for a week or so."

Sharon laughed and kissed her again, pulling away with a sigh.

They would see each other tomorrow.

Everything would be ok.

···

_I should have gone home with Brenda,_ Sharon thought to herself as she pulled into her driveway. Three cars were parked there already, and every light in her house was on.

She clambered out of the car and grabbed her suitcase from the truck, making her way up the walk on dragging feet. It had been a long day. Three airports, two flights, one layover, several rather stinky fellow passengers and lots of hassle- not to mention saying goodbye to Brenda- had left Sharon's nerves frayed.

She opened her front door and was met by a wave of sound, three voices yelling. She recognized two of them. Her girls.

She dropped her bag by the door and toed out of her shoes. Impractical, really, to wear stilettos when you knew you were going to spend your whole day in airports.

She headed for the kitchen, closer to the voices, trying to figure out who the third woman was. A thousand scenarios popped into her head, but none of them prepared her for what she found.

Emma and Chloe were arguing loudly with a blonde-haired woman Sharon wished she didn't recognize. It had been a long time, such a very long time, since she'd last seen the woman, and the years had aged her. Sharon fought the urge to strike her, to lay her out cold for having the audacity to step back in this house and scream at Sharon's children.

"LADIES!" Sharon practically bellowed, and all three of them fell silent. Chloe actually managed to look contrite, but Emma was fuming, and Amanda backed away, as if she could sense Sharon's temptation toward violence.

Emma opened her mouth to speak, but Sharon held up her hand.

"Chloe," she said carefully, "Tell me what's happening. Slowly."

Chloe took a deep breath. "It's dad," she said, and Sharon dropped into a chair, wishing like hell there was beer in the fridge.

"He's sick and he wants to see you," Amanda piped up, sounding disgusted at the mere notion.

"You do not speak," Sharon spat her. "You're lucky I haven't shot you yet."

Jack's wife clamped her mouth shut, her face deathly pale.

"This bitch-"

"Emma, language-"

"This woman had the _balls_ to walk in here and say you couldn't go see him."

"Someone explain this to me, please," Sharon said, running a tired hand over her face. The last thing she had imagined was coming home to find her daughters and her ex-husband's wife, and all she wanted was to sleep and pretend none of this had happened. Everything had been going so well. "You said he's sick. How sick?"

"They say he's dying," Amanda said, her lower lip trembling.

There was a spiteful part of Sharon that imagined Amanda was faking it, that the woman was secretly ecstatic about all the money she was about to inherit. She had to remind herself that even if Jack had left her for this woman, he and Amanda had been together for a long time. Longer than Jack and Sharon had been married.

"Dying," Sharon repeated, slightly ashamed by how little this bothered her. She could count on her fingers the number of times Jack had ever even seen Chloe, and she still carried the pain from what he'd done. She found she had little affection left for the man who had abandoned her and her daughters, even if it had been decades before.

Amanda nodded, and Emma bit off a harsh-sounding laugh.

"Good riddance," she said, and Sharon sighed again.

"Girls, could you leave us alone for a moment?" she asked. They weren't pleased, but they knew an order when they heard one, and they left without another word, though Emma threw a venomous glare at Amanda on her way out.

"I'm sorry, Amanda," she said, wishing she sounded more apologetic but knowing it was the best she could do.

"I don't blame them," the woman said softly. She looked so much _older_ to Sharon than she had all those years before, and for the first time Sharon wondered what it must have been like for Amanda. Had this woman loved Jack as Sharon loved Brenda, had she been as devastated to discover Sharon in the living room that day as Sharon had been when she saw Fritz? Was Sharon really no better than this woman she had loathed for so long?

"What exactly is wrong with him?" she asked, morbidly curious.

"Advanced pancreatic cancer. It's spread to most of his organs. They don't think he has much longer," Amanda rattled the information off, as if she'd had to say it hundreds of times before.

The front door opened, and Sharon threw her hands up in defeat. Her house was more like a train station than anything else tonight, people coming and going, never asking her permission.

"Sharon? Baby?" A familiar voice floated down the hall and Sharon felt simultaneously relieved and terrified. She was so glad Brenda was there, so grateful to have an ally, but the last thing she wanted was for Brenda and Amanda to stand in the same place.

She watched disbelief play across Amanda's features as Brenda entered the room, carrying a box that most likely contained a chocolate cake in one hand and a small duffel bag in the other.

"Am I interruptin' something?" Brenda asked, and Amanda snorted.

"Yes, as a matter of fact you are," she said with a smirk. "So if you could please-"

"It's not too late for me to shoot you," Sharon told her darkly and the woman shut her mouth.

She stood up, and walked towards Brenda, who dropped the things she was carrying so she could hold Sharon in her arms. Sharon kissed her cheek.

"Now's not really a good time," Sharon told her as she pulled away, "but if you could wait, just for a little while-"

Brenda held up her hand. "Say no more. I'll get out of your hair. Mind if I use your shower?"

Sharon wanted to say _only if I could use it with you_, but she didn't. She just nodded, and mouthed _thank you_. Brenda grinned and kissed her once before lifting up her bag and walking out of the room. She knew the layout of Sharon's house as well as her own after just a few nights there, and Sharon smiled to see it.

"Who the hell was that?" Amanda asked with a sneer, and Sharon's trigger finger twitched.

"My girlfriend," she answered. "Now, you and I have some things to discuss."


	19. Chapter 19

_Well I guess I might have known from the start_

_She'd come for a star_

_Might have told my imagination not to run too far_

_Of all the times that I've been burned_

_By now you'd think I'd have learned_

_That it's who you look like_

_Not who you are  
>-Jackson Browne, "Rosie"<em>

_···_

Amanda had finally left, the house was finally quiet, and Sharon was exhausted. She had no idea what time it was, only that it was dark, and that all she wanted was to curl up in her bed and sleep for days. Maybe when she woke up, she would find that all of this had been a bad dream.

She made her way back to her bedroom, noticing as she went that the girls were gone. She had forgotten completely that Brenda was there, until she opened the door and found her lover lying half-asleep on top of the sheets, hair damp from the shower, body wrapped in Sharon's fluffy white robe.

"Hey," Sharon said with a smile, and Brenda shifted, opening her eyes at the sound of her voice.

"Hey," Brenda answered.

"Where are the girls?" Sharon asked, hoping Chloe at least had the good sense to tell someone where she was going before they disappeared.

"They left a while ago. Said to tell you they'd be back. They didn't say where they were going," she added before Sharon could ask, and the Captain sighed. Sharon ran her fingers through her hair; she was too tired for this.

"Come here," Brenda said, patting the empty space on the bed next to her.

Sharon went willingly, collapsing against the mattress, and Brenda promptly wrapped her up in her arms.

"Is everything ok?" she asked softly, kissing Sharon's hair.

Sharon shook her head, burying her face in Brenda's neck.

Brenda didn't press her for information. The Chief knew her Captain very well, and she knew that when Sharon was ready, she would tell her everything.

···

Emma knew they had stayed out too late, but she couldn't bear to be in that house a moment longer, not while Amanda was still there. The tramp who had ruined Emma's family, the piece of ass her father had chosen over Sharon, over Emma, over Chloe before she was ever even born.

Emma may have been bitter, but she had her reasons. One of Emma's earliest memories was the day Chloe was born; Gavin Baker had spent the whole day in the waiting room with Emma, because she was too small to go back to the delivery room, and Andy had stayed by Sharon's side. No one else had come. Even Sharon's parents couldn't be bothered to show up. Emma would never forget the pain of those first few years after Jack had left. She would never forgive him for the heartbreak he had brought down on her mother, and she would never forgive him for what he'd done to her sister. Chloe had always blamed herself, had always thought, no matter how many times Emma told her otherwise, that Jack had left because he didn't want her.

And now the bastard was dying, and trying to make amends, as if he could ever make up for the things that he had done.

Chloe had been quiet they whole time they were gone, and she bolted as soon as they pulled into the driveway, rushing into the house and straight into her bedroom, closing the door behind her with a decisive thud.

Emma took her time, looking around her as she went. Amanda's car was gone, and Brenda's car was still in the drive. _Thank God for small favors,_ Emma thought.

Emma liked Brenda. She was a little… odd, obviously, but she fit, somehow. She was brave and strong and stubborn, and she had stayed by Sharon's bedside the whole night after she was shot. Emma could see what had drawn Sharon to the blonde in the first place. She wasn't sure what the last two weeks had been about, why Sharon had been so upset, or why she had left the house or any of it. But Brenda was here, and Emma had suspected that the blonde may have been at the heart of the problem, but she hoped it was over now. She needed her mother, and so did Chloe.

She made her way towards the bathroom, intent on a shower and sleep, but she was distracted by her mother's bedroom door, which was still open.

Emma peeked inside, and what she saw warmed her heart.

Sharon was snuggled up in Brenda's arms, still in the same clothes she'd been wearing when she got home from New York, her back towards the door, her face buried against Brenda's neck. Emma could see Brenda clearly, the gentle smile on her features as she watched Sharon sleep. Green eyes found brown, and Brenda gave a slight nod. Emma waved, and closed the door quietly behind her.

_Thank God for small favors._

_···_

Sharon paced outside the hospital room, chewing on her thumb, trying to decide if she was really going to go inside.

Emma had made her thoughts on the matter perfectly clear- Amanda was a bitch for saying that Sharon _couldn't_ go, and Emma thought she _shouldn't._ Chloe had cried, but said nothing either way. Brenda had suggested she just stay away; after nineteen years, whatever he had to say couldn't possibly make a difference. But Sharon had made it this far and now the choice was up to no one but herself. She hated him, she really did, but she wasn't sure she could let him die without giving him a chance to say whatever it was he wanted to say. She wasn't an idiot; she wasn't expecting an apology. But if he felt the need to call her out of the blue, well, she wasn't going to deny a dying man's wish. She could always walk out, if she didn't want to hear what he was saying, but there was a part of her that worried she would always regret it if she didn't at least try.

So she took a deep breath, and opened the door.

He seemed so small. That was the only thing she could think as she stared at him, hooked up to the IVs and the monitors, his skin pale against the starchy sheets. Jack was tall, and he had always been a strong man, but lying there in that bed he seemed to be only a shell of himself, and it took seeing him that way for the truth to finally hit home for Sharon. She had loved him, once, and now he was dying.

His eyelids fluttered for a moment, and then opened. He smiled wanly when he saw her, and struggled to pull himself upright.

"Hey, Rosie," he said, his deep voice sounding unnaturally thin. Ordinarily she would have snapped at him for that, but she couldn't find it in herself to yell at him when he looked this way, so she just smiled back.

"Hey," she answered, and walked towards him, sitting down in the chair next to his bed. She crossed her legs delicately and rested her hands on her knees, waiting.

"You look good," he told her.

"I'd say the same to you, but-"

"You don't want to lie to a dying man," he said with a twinkle in his dark eyes. Sharon wouldn't have been quite that blunt about it, but it was the truth.

"Jack-"

"I know you've probably got places to be, so I'll try to make this quick," he said, and she leaned back in her chair. It was harder than she expected it would be, seeing him like this, and while part of her wanted to run, another part of her wanted to reach out and hold his hand. Just for a moment.

"I didn't ask you to come here so I could apologize, Sharon," he said seriously. "I'm not sorry."

She bristled. _Not sorry? God, he really is a bastard. _"I see," was all she said.

"No, I don't think you do. I'm not sorry, but walking out on you was the biggest regret of my life."

"That makes no sense, Jack."

He laughed, a weak sound that quickly morphed into a cough. He finally got his breathing back under control, and continued.

"I was a jackass, and I didn't think about what I was doing to you and the girls, and I left because I knew you wouldn't have taken me back."

"You never gave us the chance to find that out for sure," Sharon said quietly.

"You wouldn't have taken me back," he repeated, and even though she'd denied it, she knew it was true. She wouldn't have.

"And even if you had, I think I would have hated myself for the rest of my life, for trying to keep you all to myself. You and I weren't made for each other, Rosie."

"But you and Amanda were?"

He shrugged. "She's not perfect. She's needy and selfish and not too bright. But I didn't want to be the kind of man who treats women like shit. I didn't want to go from one woman to another for the rest of my life, always thinking about you and never having you. So I stayed with her, because I wanted to be the kind of man who follows through."

Sharon hated herself for it, but she felt tears pricking the corners of her eyes. "So you stuck things out with her, instead of with your family." She was trying to ignore part of what he'd said, focusing on everything else. _Always thinking about you, and never having you._ She couldn't have that conversation with him. It would be so much easier just to hate him.

"I didn't want to chain you to me for the rest of your life. You deserve better, babe."

He was watching her with big dark eyes, more honest than Sharon could ever remember seeing him before. Now, when she hated him and he was dying, he was finally honest.

"Amanda told me you're seeing some woman," he said, and Sharon nodded. Jack had always known about this part of her life, though he had rarely wanted to talk about it. Despite stereotypes to the contrary, Jack had always been a bit threatened by the notion that the pretty girls who caught his eye also caught his wife's attention. Jack had never liked competition.

"Is she good to you?"

Sharon's mind flashed on the times that Brenda had left her alone, on that damnable ring that had broken her heart, their fight in the hospital, that night with Fritz, and then Brenda coming to find her, how it felt when she held Brenda in her arms, how relieved she'd been when Brenda had come to her the night before. _Is she good to you?_

"She's trying to be," Sharon answered.

"That's all I can ask for, I guess," he said.

They were quiet together for a time. Perhaps Jack had said all he needed to say, and Sharon honestly couldn't think of anything she wanted to say in return.

"The girls didn't come with you?" he asked finally, and he sounded if possible even more tired than he had when Sharon had arrived.

She shook her head.

"Will they come?"

He sounded almost hopeful, and after everything, Sharon found she didn't want to hurt him.

"I'm not sure. I think they should, but they're grown-up now. They'll make their own choices."

He nodded, already half-asleep.

"I hope they come. You did a good job with them, Rosie. You really did."

She rose, and leaned over kissing him on the cheek. "Good-bye, Jack."

She thought he was asleep, and her hand was on the door before he spoke. He said, in a soft voice, "Of all the times that I've been burned, by now you'd think I'd have learned-"

"That it's who you like, not who you are," she finished for him, the words to the old song so familiar, pulling at her heart like a child's hand.

"Rosie, you're all right," he told her. "You'll be all right."

···

Brenda had gone in to work, even though it was a Saturday, because she didn't know where else to go. She didn't want to stay at Sharon's when the Captain wasn't there; the girls had been waspish and combative since they woke up that morning, and Emma had only gotten worse once Sharon had announced she was going to see Jack. Going with Sharon had been completely out of the question. Going home didn't seem like such a good plan, either, because even though she was overjoyed to finally be with Sharon, standing in her house just flooded her with bad memories. She saw what Jack's infidelity had done to Sharon, and she couldn't help but feel guilty about the way she had treated Fritz.

And so she wandered through Major Crimes, feeling lonely and vaguely homeless.

Andy Flynn appeared before she made it into her office.

"Morning, Chief," he said from somewhere behind her, and she jumped, startled out of her reverie by his gruff voice.

"Lieutenant! What on earth are you doing here?"

"Could ask you the same thing. I thought you were taking some time off?"

She shrugged. "I was. Now I'm not."

He studied her carefully for a moment, rolling a toothpick back and forth between his lips.

"How's Sharon?"

She certainly hadn't expected the question, and something in his face told her that he knew everything. She actually felt herself blush.

Andy just laughed. "Don't be embarrassed, Chief," he said.

"Is it really that obvious?" she asked, dismayed, as she flopped into the chair behind Provenza's desk. Flynn sat down next to her.

"Come on, Chief. I've seen the way she looks at you. Hell, I've seen the way you look at her. And then Agent Howard leaves, and suddenly Sharon needs more time, and then you need time off, and then you're back… it wasn't that hard to put together. I am a cop, remember?"

"Oh, God," Brenda cried, burying her face in her hands. Sharon would kill her if people found out about this. They weren't ready; not yet.

"Don't worry, Chief, I'm not gonna tell anyone. I value my life."

She looked up at him through her fingers, and found that he was smiling.

"Can I ask you something, Lieutenant?" she said, pulling her hands away from her face.

He nodded.

"What can you tell me about Sharon's husband?"

"Jack?" Andy asked, surprised. "Not much. I didn't know him well. Always thought he was a bit of an asshole. I guess you know what he did?" She nodded. "I always thought good riddance. That was a long time ago, Chief."

Brenda just waved her hand, as if dismissing the whole conversation. It didn't feel like a long time ago, not when Brenda had been dealing with the fallout all morning. She couldn't take another bout of tears from any of the Raydor girls.

Flynn stood up, and patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. "You be good to her, alright?" he said, and left without another word.

"I'm trying," Brenda said, to no one in particular.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Just a brief chapter to get our ladies to happier times.**

**···**

The last thing Brenda expected when she opened her door that night was to find a drunken Sharon Raydor spinning around in slow circles and staring up at the flickering porch light.

"Sharon?" Brenda cried, torn between concern and bewilderment.

" S'pretty," Sharon slurred, stumbling slightly. Brenda reached out and caught her, chuckling softly as Sharon wrapped herself in Brenda's arms.

"You're drunk," Brenda said, and Sharon shrugged, flopping her head onto Brenda's shoulder.

"Come on," Brenda said, and tugged her inside. Sharon went with her willingly, stilettos dangling from her fingertips.

"How did you get here?" Brenda asked, and Sharon stared at her with glassy eyes.

"Took a cab," she answered, although how Sharon had remembered Brenda's address in her current state would remain a mystery. Sharon weaved unsteadily through Brenda's house, heading for the couch, but Brenda caught her.

"Let's get you to bed," she said softly, guiding Sharon towards her room. Sharon nodded, leaning heavily on Brenda's arm as the blonde led her inside. Sharon flopped down on the bed, and Brenda let her. She went into the bathroom and wet a washcloth, shaking her head. She hadn't heard from Sharon since she left to go speak to Jack earlier in the day, and it didn't take much for Brenda to connect the dots. She didn't know what Jack had said, but if he weren't already dying, she would have killed him.

By the time she made it back to the bedroom, Sharon was already mostly asleep, splayed out across the covers. Brenda knelt by the side of the bed, and pulled off Sharon's glasses, folding them and placing them on the nightstand. She gently washed Sharon's face with the washcloth, watching a sort of peace descend over the Captain's troubled features.

"Don't leave me," Sharon mumbled.

Brenda sat back on her heels, tears in the corners of her eyes, trying to think of something to say.

Sharon was already asleep.

Brenda rose slowly, and kissed Sharon's cheek.

"Never," she said.

···

Sharon awoke in the middle of the night with a pounding in her head, her mouth so dry it felt like sandpaper. It took her a moment to remember where she was, but a slender arm wrapped around her waist brought her back to reality. Her stomach churned, too much alcohol and the guilt for showing up at Brenda's drunk off her ass creating an uncomfortable mix. She shifted, realizing that Brenda had draped an extra blanket over them rather than trying to move Sharon off the covers. Sharon wasn't sure if she deserved the kindness Brenda had offered her, but she was grateful for it.

She knew she needed water, or the morning would be unbearable. She eased herself carefully out of the bed, moving cautiously. She was still unsteady on her feet, and the headache didn't help matters much. Her clothes stunk, and the smell only made her nausea worse. She pulled them off gingerly, leaving them balled up in the floor by Brenda's dresser. She could worry about them tomorrow.

She pulled on the first article of clothing she found- a short, fluffy pink robe with a pattern of cupcakes or something equally ridiculous. She shrugged. It wasn't as if anyone was going to see her in it.

Her fingers were on the doorknob when she heard it. Someone coming through the front door, banging around in the kitchen. She glanced over her shoulder, but Brenda was sleeping soundly, oblivious to the reality of an intruder in her home. Sharon grabbed Brenda's weapon from where it rested on the dresser top, and silently opened the door.

She moved out into the house, and discovered the burglar digging around in the cabinets under the kitchen sink.

"Freeze," she said, gun trained on the man, who jumped to his feet, turning around in surprise.

"Sergeant Gabriel?" Sharon cried.

"Captain Raydor?"

_Oh, God._

"What the hell are you doing here?" she hissed as she lowered the weapon, clicking the safety on.

"Feeding the cat! The Chief asked me to. She said she was going out of town."

Gabriel was staring at her, his expression almost laughable, his eyebrows having shot up almost to his hairline and his mouth hanging open. Whatever he had expected to find, it certainly wasn't Sharon Raydor, her hair tousled from sleep and a gun in her hand.

"Sharon? Babe? What are you doing?" Brenda's voice, thick with sleep, echoed out from the bedroom, and Sharon couldn't stop the blush that spread over her cheeks.

Gabriel looked like he'd just walked in on his parents having sex.

"Just getting some water. Go back to sleep," she called back.

"Okay," Brenda answered, sounding like she was half-asleep already.

Sharon was beginning to worry that Gabriel was going to pass out, and she wasn't doing so well herself.

"The Chief is back in town, Sergeant, so that won't be necessary," Sharon told him in her best Captain Raydor voice, fighting back a sudden wave of giggles. Honestly, she didn't know what else to do. This whole situation was so absurd, she couldn't find it in herself to be upset.

"Yes, ma'am," Gabriel answered, shoving his hands in his pockets and heading for the door, trying desperately to get the image of Sharon Raydor in nothing but the Chief's fluffy pink robe out of his head.

"Oh, and David?" Sharon said, and he turned, finding himself fixed with her patented Wicked Witch stare. "Not a word. To anyone. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," Gabriel answered enthusiastically, and bolted from the house.

Sharon made her way back to the bedroom, replacing the gun on the dresser, dropping the robe on the floor. Brenda watched her through half-open eyes.

"What's so funny?" she slurred as Sharon slid into bed beside her, unable to hide the grin that had fixed itself firmly on her face.

"Nothing," she said, kissing Brenda on the forehead. "Go back to sleep."

Brenda hummed, and burrowed into Sharon's arms.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Sorry I have updated for a while! It's hard to write smut when you have a real person job. I present to you some smut, and a baby. But not baby smut, 'cause that'd be weird. **

···

The sunlight streaming in through the window woke Brenda slowly, drawing her out of her peaceful sleep into a semi-conscious state of worry. Was Sharon all right? What had Jack said? What would happen when they went to work the next day?

There were too many questions, too many worries, too many what-ifs, but for once, Brenda didn't want to run from the troubles in her personal life. She had been the queen of avoidance in her relationship with Fritz, just as she had been with Will and her ex-husband and every other man who had come before them. And yet, with Sharon she didn't want to hide. She didn't want to stick her head in the sand and pretend their troubles didn't exist. She wanted to face the worries that overwhelmed her, holding Sharon's hand, knowing that together they would find a way through. And she couldn't help but think that maybe having Sharon by her side would make surviving all the troubles somehow sweeter.

The brunette in her arms stirred somewhat, their fingers interlacing into a knot against Sharon's bare stomach.

Her _bare_ stomach.

When had _that_ happened?

A vague memory of Sharon stumbling out of bed earlier in the night came back to Brenda, and she smiled, leaning forward to drop a kiss on Sharon's shoulder.

"Good mornin'," Brenda said softly. Sharon just hummed, and pressed herself further into Brenda's arms.

They stayed like that for a while, not speaking, not moving, just holding on to each other. It didn't matter how late it was or where their cell phones were or anything, not now, because in this moment they had each other and that was all they wanted.

"Ran into Gabriel last night," Sharon said finally, breaking the idyllic peace that had fallen over them.

"At the bar?" Brenda asked, nuzzling Sharon's neck.

Sharon was quiet for a moment before responding, "In your kitchen."

"WHAT?"

Sharon wasn't entirely sure she'd ever actually heard Brenda shriek before that moment, and the full force of Brenda's voice at the highest possible octave directly in her ear sent Sharon's hangover into overdrive, and she pulled the blanket over her head with a groan.

"Sharon, what the hell happened?" Brenda demanded, pulling the blanket back.

Sharon did her best not to laugh.

Brenda was continuing to stare at her wild-eyed, however, breathing through her nose almost violently.

"It's ok, really. He came to feed the cat. We had a nice chat."

"Wh- Sharon what did you say?"

Brenda wasn't calming down, so Sharon tangled a hand in her hair and pulled Brenda close, kissing her hard. Brenda melted under Sharon's touch, forgetting her ire briefly as she lost herself in the moment. It didn't last long, however.

She pulled away, pouting slightly. "Sharon," she said in a warning tone of voice, "what did you say?"

Sharon shrugged. "Nothing, really. I told him you were back, so he didn't need to feed the cat. I wouldn't worry about it too much," she added, as Brenda buried her face in her hands. "I think I've put the fear of God in him. I don't think he'll tell anyone."

And there it was. Brenda was panicking because someone might find out the she and Sharon were together. Sharon tried not to let that hurt as much as it did. She had thought that after everything, after Fritz and New York and everything, they would finally be able to just be together, but the specter of work loomed large. Would Brenda really be open about this relationship in front of the men she worked with? Could Sharon really stay if her lover was ashamed of her?

Sharon was dangerously close to crying when she realized Brenda was laughing.

"What?" she asked, confused by the change in Brenda's attitude.

"I bet Gabriel just about _died_ when he saw you," Brenda said around a giggle, and Sharon smiled, kissing her again just because she could.

"You should have seen his face," Sharon said with a chuckle of her own.

They laughed together for a moment before Brenda caught Sharon's face in her hands, all mirth lost as her face took on a serious expression.

"Sharon," she said, "I love you. And I'm glad Gabriel knows. And as soon as you want me to, I'll tell everyone else. I don't care who knows."

And what else could Sharon do in that moment? She pulled Brenda close and whispered "I love you, too," before they lost themselves together amongst the pillows and the tangled blankets.

Brenda was at a distinct advantage, as Sharon was already naked, and she had every intention of using it.

She trapped Sharon's wrists above her head in one slender hand, and laid nibbling kisses across Sharon's breasts, reveling in the little sounds her lover made as she shivered beneath her. This was what she loved most about being with Sharon; she got to see all of her, as she was, without hiding behind badges or clever little lines. They were themselves, and more, when they were together, and she wanted to stay this way forever.

Sharon, however, had had quite enough of being stationary.

It didn't take very much effort for Sharon to free her hands, and she put them to work immediately. She dragged Brenda back up her body, bringing her down for a bruising kiss. Brenda moaned into her mouth as Sharon's fingers gathered the material of the over-sized t-shirt Brenda wore, pulling it up and off.

Brenda shifted away, grinning as Sharon pouted at the loss of contact.

Before Sharon could say anything, Brenda rose up on her knees, easing her panties down and off, and Sharon's expression changed from pouting to practically hungry.

She pulled the blonde down until Brenda lay flat on top of her, skin on skin, lips on lips, long hair swirling together in patterns of light and dark against the sheets. Sharon's hands roamed, claiming every inch of her lover she could find, reacquainting herself with all the secret places she had found, and discovering new ones.

This was much better than talking.

Brenda writhed on top of Sharon, wanting desperately to take control, and wondering how it was that even from underneath her Sharon still managed to find a way to go first.

Brenda pulled her lips away from the warmth of Sharon's mouth, smirking when she heard the brunette gasping for breath as Brenda slid her way ever so slowly down Sharon's body. Away from her lips to her jaw, down the long expanse of her neck, over her collarbones and the crest of her breast, leaving teasing kisses and goosebumps in her wake.

By the time Brenda's lips skimmed over Sharon's stomach the Captain had developed a pretty good idea of where her Chief was going, and her legs fell open obligingly as Brenda neared the warmth of her center. Brenda's fingers found their way through the auburn curls and over the damp of Sharon's folds, and the Captain bucked up underneath her, desperate for her touch.

Brenda just chuckled against her hip, dropping a kiss there before following the path of her fingers with her mouth, tracing her tongue over the flesh she found there, smiling when she heard Sharon cry out her name.

Sharon caught her fingers in blonde curls, holding Brenda against herself as she felt Brenda's mouth against her in the one place she wanted, only remembering for the briefest of moments what had happened the last time Brenda had buried her face between the Captain's legs. Now was not the time for remembering the pain that they tried so hard to put behind them. Now was the time for discovering just how much they meant to each other, and when Sharon felt Brenda wrap her lips around her clit, she forgot everything except how much she loved the little blonde currently draped over her hips.

"Wait! Wait," Sharon gasped, pulling gently on Brenda's hair. Brenda stared up at her, worry written all over her face, and Sharon felt momentarily guilty for the confusion.

"Come up here," was all she said. She really wasn't capable of saying any more than that. Brenda still didn't quite understand, but she did as she was told.

Sharon kissed her deeply, and then ran her hands down Brenda's sides until they rested on the other woman's hips. "Turn around," she said, and Brenda shivered at the implications of that, but once again did just as her Captain said.

Brenda settled herself on top of Sharon, her knees planted on the mattress on either side of Sharon's head, bracing herself on her hands as she leaned forward. Sharon had anticipated Brenda's movements, and the moment Brenda lowered her mouth back to Sharon's sex she felt the brush of Sharon's tongue against her own heated folds. Brenda moaned against Sharon's skin, lost in the moment, the feel of Sharon , the taste of her, the cycle of need they found themselves in. Before this moment, Brenda had always thought that this wasn't something people normally did in bed, and now she thought this was what she wanted to do with Sharon every time for the rest of forever. They felt good, perfect even, moving together.

She could feel Sharon's moans against her sex, felt her graze the hard bud of her clit with gentle teeth, and it was everything Brenda could do not to scream, she redoubled her efforts and they came together, moaning each other's names, lost in a tangle of body parts and sheets.

···

They would have spent the rest of the day together, but Sharon had two daughters who were losing their father, and so she went home, leaving Brenda with a kiss and a promise to call later.

"Hello?"

"Sharon?"

Sharon sighed. "Brenda, thank God. I'm sorry I didn't call you sooner; it's been a hell of a day."

"Is there anything I can do?"

Sharon shook her head, and then felt incredibly foolish when she remembered that Brenda couldn't see her. "That's sweet, but unless you want to go to the airport and find Emma and drag her into that hospital by her hair, I don't think there's anything to be done."

"She doesn't want to go see him?"

"I honestly think she'd rather be physically tortured than speak to her father."

"What about Chloe?"

"She went. They had a real heart-to-heart, which is the main reason Emma's getting on a plane. She thinks he's tricked Chloe, thinks it isn't fair, blah blah blah…"

"I'm so sorry, baby," Brenda said, meaning it. It broke her heart to see what this man was doing to Sharon, even all these years later.

"I love you. It's ok. Thanks for worrying about me," Sharon said, and Brenda smiled.

···

They did not see each other on Monday morning. Brenda made her way into the squad room, clutching a cup of coffee and wondering how it was that they hadn't caught a case yet. She nearly ran smack into David Gabriel, who actually _blushed_, and stammered as he backed away from her. She just grinned and made her way back to her office.

Sharon had to endure another conversation with Will Pope, who was even more confused about her sudden return than he had been about her departure.

"Captain Raydor," he said, leaning in the doorway of her office, and she smiled up at him.

"Chief Pope, please come in," she gestured towards an empty chair.

"Glad to see you're back, Captain. I trust you won't be disappearing on us again," he said, studying her under one raised eyebrow.

"My apologies for that, sir," Sharon said, articulating her words carefully, speaking slowly to avoid showing her irritation. "I simply wasn't ready to come back then, but I am now, and I'm happy to be back at work."

"Uh-huh. And this renewed enthusiasm wouldn't have anything to do with the little vacation Chief Johnson took, would it? I don't think she's ever had a vacation before. She had to be talked into going on her honeymoon. Both times. And yet, you leave and she leaves, and then here you both are, back at work on the same day."

It was only her infamous self-control that kept Sharon Raydor from blushing in that moment. She clutched her hands in her lap and counted to ten, but by the time she finished Chief Pope had already risen and left her office with a chuckle. She was grateful for his departure; she'd just realized that she didn't actually have an answer for him. Brenda may have said that she wanted to tell everyone, but Sharon wasn't sure if Brenda was really prepared to make good on her outrageous claim.

···

The day dragged on and on, and by the time darkness fell outside her office window, Sharon Raydor was exhausted. She had only managed to communicate with Brenda through a few rushed text messages as they both discovered just how much work had piled up in their absence, and spent the day trying to clean up the mess they had made.

She made her way to the elevators, hoping Brenda was still there, and remembering with a smile the night she went to Brenda against her own better judgment, unable to let the Chief continue to suffer no matter how much they may have disliked one another. It seemed like such a long time ago.

When Sharon eased open the door to Brenda's office, she clapped a hand over her mouth, equal parts amused and surprised by what she found inside.

Brenda was sitting behind her desk with her head in her hands, and the sound of a baby crying filled the office. The origin of the sound was a small carrier in the corner of the room, and a little boy, only a few months old, red-faced and screaming.

"Brenda?" Sharon asked.

"Yes?" Brenda responded, not moving her head from the desktop.

"What is that?"

"That's a baby. And he won't shut up. I fed him and I changed him and he won't sleep and he won't stop crying and I think I am losing my mind."

"Did you try holding him?" Sharon asked with a tiny smirk, crossing the room and lifting the child easily into her arms.

Brenda finally raised her head, frustration gradually fading as she watched Sharon swaying gently back and forth, holding the little boy close and murmuring quiet nonsense until he finally stopped crying.

"You look good with a baby in your arms," Brenda told her, and Sharon smiled. She shifted the little boy carefully and held out her hand. Brenda took it, interlacing their fingers, allowing herself to be pulled close. She kissed Sharon, grateful that she'd closed the blinds. It wasn't that she didn't want anyone to know about them, it was just this moment felt too personal to be shared with anyone else.

"What's he doing here?" Sharon asked when she finally pulled away.

"Oh, child services was supposed to pick him up two hours ago. His mother was killed this morning, and we have no idea who his father is."

Sharon looked down at the little boy in her arms, his chubby freckled cheeks and dusting of dark hair, nestled against her skin, and not for the first time found that this job broke her heart. Only a few months old, unable to do for himself, unable to understand, left alone because the world is hard place and people are cruel. But holding the child close and feeling Brenda's slender hand in her own, Sharon couldn't help but wonder if maybe the world wasn't as unforgiving as she'd always thought.

"What's his name?" she asked, and Brenda smiled.

"Lee," she said.


	22. Epilogue

_Yeah I'm hard to love and even harder to live with  
>And I know there's days when you just want to up and quit<br>But when it comes to lovin' me  
>Baby you make it look so easy<br>You're my compass when I'm lost  
>My anchor when I get tossed<br>And the right way when all I can do is wrong  
>Sometimes I drink 'til I fall down<br>but your arms save me from the ground  
>And hold me 'til all the hurt is gone<br>I got a hard head, I was born that way  
>And that makes me wrong more than I say<br>But I thank God you got a hard head too  
>I guess he must have known you'd need that<br>To get us through  
>'Cause when it comes to lovin' me<br>Baby you make it look so easy  
>-You Make it Look so Easy, Eric Church<em>

···

The alarm clock broke the silence with its shrill blaring, and Sharon groaned, flinging her arm out to make it stop before burrowing closer to the warmth of the body next to her.

"We have to get up," she said halfheartedly, and she didn't have to be looking at Brenda to know that the little blonde was pouting when she answered, "Five more minutes."

"That's what you said twenty minutes ago," Sharon answered with a grin, kissing the soft skin of Brenda's shoulder before slipping out from under the sheets and onto her feet.

Brenda grumbled something unintelligible and made no move to get up, so Sharon did the only thing she could think of.

She grabbed the blankets and pulled them off the bed.

Brenda sputtered as she stared up at her, trying to be angry, but all Sharon could think was how adorable she looked with her hair all in a mess and her nightgown askew on her slender frame.

"You're impossible," Brenda muttered, and Sharon just grinned.

"If you want a shower you better get it now," she said, turning on her heel and heading for the bathroom, pulling off the shirt she'd slept in as she went.

The offer of a shared shower never failed to get Brenda's attention, and the blonde was on her feet the moment Sharon turned away, shrugging out of her clothes as she followed her.

Sharon smiled as Brenda stepped into the shower behind her, draping herself over Sharon's back and kissing the place where neck met shoulder while her hands traced patterns on the dark-haired woman's stomach.

"Big day today," Brenda murmured in her ear, and Sharon's smile grew.

She turned and wrapped her arms around Brenda, pulling her close and kissing her thoroughly. It should have surprised her, how easy this was. They'd been through hell in the beginning, and there had been times when Sharon was completely certain that there was no way the two of them would ever make it work. And yet Brenda was beside her when she woke up more often than not, and little moments like this no longer felt stolen. They had earned this happiness for themselves, and now they were enjoying it.

Enjoying it quite a bit, Sharon thought as Brenda's mouth began to wander down Sharon's neck.

···

"Ok, ok, just one more!" Sharon cried, and Brenda and Lee groaned in unison.

"We're gonna be late!" Brenda complained, and though that particular threat was usually enough to get the Captain to do whatever it was Brenda wanted, her dark-haired wife was having none of it.

"Just one more," she said, gingerly placing the camera on the bookshelf before running to stand beside her wife and son.

"Smile!" she said, wrapping an arm around Brenda's waist, and the blonde couldn't help but do just that.

"You're ridiculous," Brenda murmured in her ear, and Sharon squeezed her closer.

"It's his first day of school. The girls would kill me if I didn't get a good picture."

The timer on the camera ran out and the light flashed on the happy family in the front hall of their expansive home.

"No more pictures?" Lee asked suspiciously, staring over his shoulder at them, and Sharon nodded.

"No more pictures. Now go get your bag! We're gonna be late!"

Lee rolled his eyes and trotted off on his sturdy legs to find his backpack. Sharon's arm was still draped across Brenda's waist and the blonde turned, tilting her face up for a kiss. Sharon happily obliged.

"I told you we'd be late," Brenda said smugly, and Sharon leaned in, nibbling on her lip.

"It'll be worth it," she said.

Lee returned and the two women separated. Brenda kissed them each on the cheek and waved from the porch as they clambered into Sharon's car and pulled out the drive. She went back inside to make her coffee and check her phone to see if anyone from the squad had tried to reach her, but Sharon's words echoed in her mind.

_It'll be worth it._

And as Brenda looked around their house, at the pictures from their wedding and Lee's birthdays and parties and beach trips and all the little moments that had been their last five years together, she couldn't help but think that yes, it had been worth it after all.


End file.
